thefive
by onelildustbunni
Summary: Dystopic. It's the end of the world by war--but instead of focusing on surviving, all the five survivors can think of is making things the way they were. New X-men. Hellion and X23.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** thefive  
**Universe: **AU resulting from events of 616  
**Type: **Romance/Drama  
**Pairing: **Hellion/Wind Dancer, later Hellion/X-23

**Summary: **Another dystopian take I thought of. It's the end of the world by war--but instead of focusing on surviving, all the five survivors can think of is making things the way they were.

**A/N: **One of my little projects that I've almost fully written but restrained from publishing. I'm going to put it up now because I failed so hard on updating everything else I've written (see notes on the updated chapters for the other stories; explains circumstances, a la computer meltdowns...yes, 3 computers broke. I am reduced to writing from someone else's computer, gasp.

Enjoy! ~onelildustbunni

* * *

**  
Chapter 1- **

They are sitting in a small, dark room that smells faintly of mildew and mothballs, as if it had once contained these things, long ago. Perhaps the mildew has died of age. Perhaps it, too,  
has gone into hiding, afraid for its life. Or maybe the room was cleaned before they utilized it. Julian covers his eyes. He's thinking too deeply about things again.

He didn't used to do this; analyze so much. He thinks he started doing it because he's anxious to be alive, and subconsciously feels that by analyzing every detail of life, he will  
somehow hold onto it better.

Julian is part of a nearly extinct group of post-humanity. Mutants. There used to be millions of mutants. Then there were 198. Then…

He's astonished to think that the five of them, sitting in this room, are all that are left. In a manner of speaking. They can no longer guarantee _who_ is out there, as their locating  
machine—Cerebra—was destroyed and left behind long ago.

Long ago. Thirteen years have passed since M-day, and it feels more like a hundred and thirty. He has difficulty recalling what it was like to rest easy, laugh out loud, and only worry  
about school and social situations. Not to mention what it was like to sleep in a real bed, something he hasn't done in three years.

He doesn't complain about his back anymore, despite the hard conditions. No one can fix it for him; the area above his tailbone has tightened into one big throbbing knot that will never  
be untied and sends shooting pains up his spine. He'd almost miss it if it were to disappear; it's a souvenir. It reminds him of the friends he failed to save.

There is one person he _did_ save, however, and she's sitting across from him at the small table, looking at her nails. Her beautiful face is beginning to show her age; tiny lines are creeping  
across her skin, emphasizing the areas that crinkle when she feels an emotion. Her hair is now cropped short against her head, almost too short. Ever since a near-death experience, Sofia  
has been afraid of long hair, even though she won't admit it to him. He only sees the results of her unspoken fears, and it hurts almost worse than all the loss.

He looks at his companions. There's Cessily, who has somehow managed to remain a cheerleader through all of this. Thank god for her. She's the pillar of moral support, the reminder  
of 'things will get better', even when they're lying, bleeding on the floor.

There's Santo, too. He's grown darker, more cynical, more serious; he trusts no one. He doesn't make jokes anymore; he has none left. He's invulnerable, but something within him has  
died, something that Julian is struggling to nurture and sustain in himself.

Finally, there's Laura, someone he's gotten to know very little of, despite having known her for almost thirteen years. She's always been quiet, her green, cat-like eyes bright and  
observing. She's aged well; or perhaps not at all. When he thinks about it, Laura looks the same as the day she was first introduced to the students by Wolverine. The only change,  
perhaps, is she seems more matured; she doesn't seem startled or confused anymore about things they say or do. Perhaps she has adapted to them, learning their habits so as to fit in.

Or maybe—he thinks—maybe that's not it at all. Maybe _they've_ changed, adapting to _her_, becoming more like her with each life-threatening trial they endure. He shudders slightly;  
what a strange thought. He doesn't like to think about Laura much. He knows as much as he needs to about her, and there the curiosity ends. She's frightening; she's seen too much.

It's time to get down to business.

"This is a strict intel recon," he says out loud, his finger pointing to a spot on the paper. "In and out. We distract, Laura steals. Those files could be exactly what we've been  
looking for the whole time."

The whole time. Thirteen years of searching for the first mutant baby since M-day that had disappeared along with Cable. The X-men had died—one by one—in the conflict that  
had followed; and no one has ever found where Cable had gone.

Or where he had taken the Messiah.

Julian has never heard of anything situation like the one he and his companions have endured. The Messiah existed—had arrived—and had left, without changing the world for the  
better. And then the world had fallen apart, around their ears, beginning with some bad decisions on the behalf of Cyclops.

**…**

Sofia lives every day in fear. Fear of losing Julian, losing herself, losing the only friends she has left. She has become quiet, timid, a shadow of the girl she used to be. She never  
mentions her fear out loud, but they are quite evident, from her short-cropped hair and worry lines, to her nails (bitten to the quick), to her shaking hands whenever she uses her  
powers. She is afraid of the wind now—afraid of having it. She doesn't want her wind. She wishes that she had never learned that she could control it.

The fact that she is a mutant means she will never be allowed to have a normal life. She can never have the children she wanted. She would never wish this world on another  
living being. She's had to watch some things she will never be able to unsee, that has proved to her—once and for all—that there is only evil.

Sofia has stopped praying, stopped believing in the God she once worshipped so reverently. She stopped doing this when her prayer beads were destroyed by her assailants,  
ripped violently from her hand, breaking the pinky finger she had looped it through. Of the twenty students caught in the attack, they alone had escaped with their lives.

Julian had spent the next evening carefully splinting her broken hand as she cried silently, and he, too, had remained silent, although his lips were pressed firmly  
together. Not just in anger of what had been done to her.

In grim acceptance that she would now believe, as he did, that there was no god.

It was after that night that they had cemented the bond between them. In her now godless world, Sofia realized anything fragile would be broken; she had to carry faith in  
her convictions or what they shared would be gone forever. It was a natural survival instinct; when in danger of extinction, breed. She hadn't regretted it, and they hadn't  
looked back on stupid childhood quarrels.

She watches him now and thinks he looks older. She never thought she'd see the day when she'd look at Julian and consider him a mature person, mostly based on his  
often-aggravating personality and overage of attitude. But here she was. Biting her lip, in fear, because they are being quiet, following Laura down a dark, slimy passage.

Their companion holds up her hand, peering ahead. Her ears cocked.

Sofia stretches her hand out into the darkness and sifts the air molecules, seeking to magnify whatever it is that Laura has detected. Their powers are complimentary, that  
of Wolverine's clone and herself; however, their personalities are not. Sofia has never liked Laura, feeling uneasy around the girl-woman who moves so quickly, smoothly  
(like a big hunting cat), with green, cat-like eyes.

Laura is also too practical. She does not consider the spirit, or the emotional side of the picture; she is only concerned with tactics. She could care less if they all die,  
Sofia feels. But she never says anything.

"Sweetie," Julian whispers, touching her shoulder from behind. Sofia jumps slightly, startled, and looks at him; he reaches up and touches her lower lip.

"Don't bite so hard." There is blood on his finger.

"Be quiet," Laura says, her voice full of irritation. _Rawrll. _Sofia forces her jaws to unclamp, nods and turns away, now conscious of the taste of blood in her mouth.

_Do not let yourself bleed near her, maybe she will get hungry, _Sofia thinks of Laura a little fearfully. This is ridiculous—Laura's not actually a cat.

In the darkness, it's easy to lose one's train of thought. Add one _more_ thing to the long list of things she's absolutely terrified of.

**…**

"Fruitless," Julian says. "There's no record of mutants born after 2005."

"That is not what I am looking for." Laura is riffling through files in the cabinet, her eyes downturned as she examines the labels on each folder.

"What are you looking for, then?" Julian asks, his voice full of annoyance. Laura hasn't paused to explain one bit of her procedure today, just ordered them around,  
forgetting that he's the leader by unspoken agreement. He and the others have been posted sentry in the abandoned building rubble, while Laura has crept around  
all day. He finally has found her in what appears to be a reception counter of a hospital.

"Admission records." Laura does not look up, reading.

"Those won't help."

"They will."

"You're wasting our—"

"Be quiet."

He's about to argue further, but Laura raises her hand, the other one pointing to the open file she has been examining.

"These are the files we desire."

"These are admission papers, Laura," Julian says, taking the file from her with a scowl. "We don't—"

"The hospital was destroyed upon the delivery of the Messiah," Laura says, her tone unintelligible. Maybe mocking. "Of course there will not be a birth record."

"Oh." Julian realizes she's right. "So we're after records of anyone admitted for a delivery. That's a very large window still."

"No." Laura continues to study the file. "The Messiah was small, underdeveloped. In other words…premature, by four and a half weeks. She had jaundice. These  
facts will allow for a much smaller window."

Julian stares at her for a moment. She has known this much about the Messiah?

She has not divulged any such information to them.

"You've seen her?"

"Yes."

"When? Where? _How?_"

"I cannot say."

"Damnit!" He bursts in frustration. "That stuff doesn't _matter_ anymore. You can tell us everything. We need to know all the facts."

"You know what is factual," Laura said coldly. "I will not divulge information that is not my own to do so with."

He curses his luck, that of all the mutants to survive, they had to get Laura, the ice-hearted, scheming, conniving, robotic…

"We are done here," Laura says suddenly. The drawer of the filing cabinet closes with a simultaneous snap. "We should hurry."

"Why—"

She is heading towards the door, her expression unintelligible. He follows, telling himself that he is being ridiculous. Laura is a team player and will not do anything  
that would put their well-being at risk.

Although she hasn't explained why she wants these files in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for reviews! Yes this is definitely a unique story. The secret's pretty big.

On a side note, I have a couple other stories like this typed up and ready to go. I will begin posting a new one when one of my other stories  
ends (most likely at the end of this one). I've definitely had a lot of outside-the-box ideas lately.

* * *

**2. ****Chapter 2- **

"I don't like your attitude," Julian says.

Laura is sitting in the chair across the table from him. He has done this especially, singled her out to have a talk about her behavior. They have no room  
for quarreling, for uneven distribution of knowledge. Everyone in their group must know what is going on at all times, or risk death. Besides, if Laura isn't  
telling them about this, what else is she not she telling them about?

She watches him with her cat-like green eyes, slanted upwards in the corner. Her expression is slightly amused, as if she's allowing him to speak—to  
entertain her, he decides. This annoys him.

She is silent.

"You can't keep secrets," he says. "You have to tell us. At least me. All of our heads are on the line, and it's only fair that any information that could possibly  
affect our future be shared. I'd rather have five brains working on it than just one." He says the last part to appeal to Laura's practical nature.

She is silent.

"Laura!" He bursts, exasperated.

She _is_ smiling, just slightly. "I do not have to tell you anything."

"You eat our food, you live in our havens…you rely on us for your only human contact, Laura," Julian says. If it were anyone else, he'd say 'socialization',  
but she doesn't _do_ that. The best way he can describe it is 'contact'.

"That is true," Laura says. "I also find most of our supplies."

"Yeah, well…" he trails off. What she has said is true. "Still, you wouldn't be happy without us. Admit it."

Laura is silent, yet he feels she has considered this. She's slumping back in her chair, something she doesn't do often—relaxing—and she reminds him,  
again, of a hunting cat, luxuriating after a large, fulfilling meal. Perhaps a tiger. Or a black panther, stretching its paws. Her eyes meet his again and he  
watches (almost eagerly) for signs of relenting.

"I would not be happy without you, Julian," she says. It takes him a moment to realize she _has_ relented—he's been watching her body language instead,  
and has seen no sign of her admission.

"Well, good," he says. "Keep that in mind, then, and think carefully. Don't you agree that we should all be on the same page? For safety?"

Laura pauses.

"Perhaps."

He waits.

She is silent.

"Laura…what do you know about the Messiah child?" he asks again, very directly. Sometimes he has to be direct with Laura, very literal, in order to  
get responses. He doesn't think she's unintelligent—he knows it has to do with whatever training she received as a child at the facility. He has had  
the distinct displeasure of meeting her creators, although he did not delve further as her entire situation was overwhelming.

"I have told you what I know," Laura says, her voice flat.

"You never said you've seen her. How? What were you doing?"

"I cannot discuss that."

"Laura—"

Laura's eyes fall upon him, and they are stern, yet—affectionate? As if he is a misbehaving kitten. So many cat analogies that she brings up. "I am not  
at liberty to discuss what I was doing, or why. I was in the service of Cyclops, and he requested I never speak of my work. I am sure you will understand this."

Cyclops. She's still supporting him? Julian didn't understand how _anyone _could support the man who had screwed up the world, and left it for him to fix.

"No, I don't understand," Julian says bitterly. "He's dead. Don't you trust us, Laura? Don't you want us to be safe? I thought you meant it when you took  
the oath with us." The oath not to keep secrets anymore.

Laura raises her eyebrow. "I do not tell you, _for_ your safety," she says simply.

"…" he raises a hand. He's had enough of this discussion; it's just going on in circles. Laura's not going to tell him, and the sensation that she is entertained  
by his efforts has grown stronger. He realizes that her eyes have been fixed on him the whole time, and he suddenly is reminded of the period following their  
introduction, when she had stalked him. He'd never been able to prove it, except for a nagging feeling, and the fact that every time he'd turned around in a  
public area, she'd been there. Watching. Even then she was like a cat.

He'd woken up at nights, too, with an uneasy feeling of being watched. He couldn't prove anything there either, however, and had decided it was his  
imagination, for the sake of his own sanity. But now, with Laura watching him, he's reminded of that time, and alerted to the fact that it may not  
have ended for her.

"Remember what I've said." He heads for the door. He needs to put solid, opaque objects between himself and her cat-eyes.

"Yes," Laura says, smiling slightly.

…

He strokes Sofia's close-shorn head gently as she begins to fall asleep. He can feel her relaxing, like a rabbit being petted; letting go of her  
surroundings. He wishes they were better. He lets his eyes slide closed; when he opens them, a while later, they meet a pair of green, catlike ones.

For a moment he is confused. He opens his mouth to speak, but Laura puts a finger to her lips and looks at the door. _Oh god. _He sits up silently,  
his hand squeezing Sofia's shoulder.

"How many?" he mouths.

Laura focuses on him, then holds three fingers up.

Sofia has woken, now; he manages to relay the information. Her eyes widen. She, too, knows what it is. Laura would not bother them with a trivial  
concern. Their assailants are heavily armed, with cure guns that will suppress their powers long enough for something horrible to happen to them.  
Even the invulnerable and healing members of their party can fall prey to this.

They creep out of their sleeping area and to the hallway. Julian looks at Sofia, who nods and stretches her hand out. The air molecules dance and  
noises are magnified tenfold.

Sounds of breathing masks.

"Three fifteen. Target Alpha. Roger."

The men are speaking in code. Julian counts the sounds; there are, indeed, three. They should be able to neutralize them, but they will then need  
to leave the base, as it is no longer safe.

They are so intent on listening ahead that they do not hear the man creeping up behind them until it is too late. As one they turn and stare, wide-eyed,  
at the man in the gas suit who has shot Sofia, and is now leveling his cure gun at Julian.

snkkt!

Two blades pop out of the visor, which turns red inside. The man's body goes limp and the rifle clatters to the floor. The claws retract, and the man  
drops to the ground, utterly dead.

"We must move," Laura says calmly. "Cessily has also been shot. We will need to secure a new base."

…

They are sitting in an abandoned theatre. The screen looms up at them, white and blank, reflecting how Julian feels on the inside.

They've scraped Cessily together the best they could, into a large container. She has yet to reform, and Julian wonders if they haven't lost her—one of  
the only things keeping them going. Sofia, beside him, is biting her thumb nail, her eyes unfocused. Has he lost her too?

Laura is watching him watch her. "It will wear off," she says. He is surprised; why does she care that he is worried? Usually she ignores the emotional  
landscape of her companions.

Santo taps his fingers on the armrest of his chair and says nothing.

"I hope so," Julian says. "Without them, there's no reason to continue."

His companions are silent. Laura looks at the ground.

…

Sofia has begun to recover; however, her wind powers have not returned. She is very nervous about this, although she says nothing. Julian realizes  
how disadvantageous this is. She is being hunted, pursued, by mutant haters—for powers that she doesn't _have. _

At the same time, if they don't return, she could leave them. Run somewhere far away—perhaps Venezuela again—and pretend to be normal. There  
were DNA tests, as a standard, but it might not be impossible to obtain false results, with bribery.

But he can't think this of Sofia. She is loyal to her friends, to him, and would never do something so underhanded. And he loves her, he trusts her, and  
vice versa. Never would she ever.

He reminds himself that he's being ridiculous. Sofia's powers will return shortly, and there will be no question at all.

He's just tired. He rubs his forehead absentmindedly, then looks up, and Laura's looking at him again, her eyes so unreadable. Inscrutable. The corners  
of her lips turn up just slightly, and he looks away quickly. He's paranoid over the thought he had earlier, that Laura may revert to old tendencies.

**…**

Outside. He's smoking, a habit he picked up somewhere along the line for stress relief, when he can find cigarettes. He looks across the water. They  
are in a warehouse, by the New York harbor; the scenery is disgusting. Ruined buildings as far as the eye can see, and a mud-brown fluid beyond the  
cracked asphalt of the parking lots. The sky is a dull grayish pink color. He can smell sulfur. His smoking is sort of redundant.

The door opens, and it's Laura, slinking through the shadows. Her eyes flash slightly in the dark as light reflects off the retinas, something he's noticed  
about her eyes. It was a cat thing.

"You are aware." Laura says. To him. How random.

He finishes inhaling. "Huh?"

Laura tilts her head. "Of the risk."

"This?" Julian studies the cigarette, finding it odd that she would comment. She never has before. She never makes small talk, anyway. Why would she—

"No." Laura comes into the light, what little light there is that gets through the clouds. "Of the risk that the afflicted pose." The light has illuminated  
smudges of ash on her face. He's sure he has black marks on his skin, too; one could not go outside without obtaining some sort of reminder of the  
throbbing, wounded environment. It didn't help that a few hours earlier, a building they had been in had collapsed and nearly crushed them all.

Hence the need to relax and the consequent smoking.

"We can't just leave them, Laura," Julian says, in a tired, explanatory way. He fails to understand how she can persist in the idea that they can just  
abandon their companions. Is she _that_ heartless?

Laura shifts. "By allowing them to stay, you are endangering us." She pauses. Is she hesitating? "Especially Sofia."

Julian drops the cigarette and grinds it under his heel. "Not up for debate."

"If—" Laura begins, but he seizes her wrist and holds it, hard.

"Shut up. Shut up, right now. If you don't, you're not part of this anymore. I won't let you stay if you're going to have _thoughts_ like that. You know better,  
why would you even bring it up to me?"

Laura's lips part, but nothing comes out. She looks—afraid? This catches him off guard, seeing her disturbed by something he's said, and it disturbs him as  
well. She's hard to fathom, that she could be so unaffected by everything else, yet one little rebuke from him could make her look like a small child that has  
been scolded for stealing cookies. The thought, the comparison, is so ludicrous that it makes him want to laugh, something he has not done in a long time.

"Sofia's staying. So is Cessily. End of story."

"The risk—" Laura takes a moment to reassert herself, closing her eyes. "They may betray us."

Julian pauses, lets go of her wrist. This idea hadn't presented itself to him, even though the thought that Sofia might run away had occurred. She  
wouldn't—he's angry with himself for listening to Laura—but a small part of him, the part that's becoming more like Cyclops—warns him that she might be correct.

"They won't."

He's taken too long to respond; Laura looks confident again, confident enough to push the issue.

"You cannot guarantee that. Betrayals have happened. Need I remind you of Emma Frost?"

"Frost and Sofia are two completely different people," Julian snaps.

Laura is silent, but her point remains. Frost had betrayed Cyclops, betrayed him horribly and thoroughly in an attempt to gain safety for herself and  
a select group of her students. Only the ones she truly liked.

"Go away, clone," Julian resorts, annoyed. He hasn't used this insult in years, mostly because he doesn't insult _anyone_ now.

Laura turns away and goes back into the building. He wonders if she feels anything at being called a clone. Is it so factual for her, as if he had called  
her _woman _or _human_? Just a classifying word. And yet, he'd recalled that she had seemed miserable when Logan introduced her, using that word.

…

"How're you feeling?" Julian asks, crawling into the space beside Sofia. She is laying on her side, curled up under the blanket.

"Cold," she murmurs. He kisses her shoulder and then lays his head down on the roll of insulation they are using as a pillow. It is scratchy, so they have  
lain a jacket over its surface.

Silence. He begins to nod off, exhausted. He almost overused his powers, earlier, protecting everyone from the collapsing building. His temples are  
throbbing dully.

"Julian?"

He snaps awake. "Hrm?"

"What if they do not come back?" Sofia, in a small voice.

He rubs her shoulder comfortingly. "They will."

Silence for a while.

"Hold me, please," Sofia whispers.

He does.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3-  


* * *

**

"Good job, Laura," he says finally, having decided that the new location is suitable. Safe.

Laura is standing in the shadow, so he can't see her expression clearly; however, he thinks she looks…relieved? He wonders if she is worried about her transgression,  
earlier in the week, when she suggested that some of their companions might betray them.

"Are you sure it's abandoned?" he asks. "As in, no one ever checks in on it? I don't want a repetition." In the past, they had been chased out of several 'bases' by enraged owners.

"Yes." Laura paused. "There are separate rooms."

He knows she doesn't care about privacy; Laura has no one, and will never have anyone. Cessily and Santo don't, either. She has said this solely for his benefit. She is watching him,  
now, for his reaction, as if she is eager to please. He doesn't understand why—if she is still harboring that strange attraction to him—she is encouraging his relationship with Sofia.

This is not a natural response for a woman in her position.

Laura's such a basket case, he thinks, pushing the thought away, as he always does. He should just be grateful she hasn't ever tried anything.

"Oh. Awesome," he says. He pauses. "Haven't had _that_ for a bit." He doesn't specify the definition of 'that', leaves it hanging. It's mean of him, of course, but he figures the more he pushes  
her away, the further away she will eventually be.

Laura gives a short nod. "I have been thinking. I believe you will need to reassemble Cessily. If she is in a weakened state, she will be unable to overcome the energy of activation required  
to mobilize. A boost of telekinetic energy might solve this, allowing her to breach the barrier. The atoms will be self sustaining after, through collisions."

"Oh." He has only understood half of what she has said, but he trusts her. Laura's a walking textbook. If something she says doesn't work, it's more likely that either something has been  
done incorrectly—or that the theory is wrong—than Laura not remembering or understanding a concept.

**…**

Cessily gasps as she struggles to reform, beads of mercury rolling down her cheeks. Her mouth is gaping wide open, struggling to call for help, and her fingers are reaching out of the container.

"C'mon…hold together," Julian says through gritted teeth. He's having difficulty with the task, as Cessily's material is so dense, unlike Santo's (who he has also reassembled several times).

"…." Cessily collapses again with a slopping sound; then reappears in another puddle, just her eyes, which stare at them, full of words she can't say.

Sofia crouches by the eyeballs. "Cessily! Try. I know you can do this."

"Attempt it again," Laura tells Julian. He closes his eyes and thinks again—hard—about Cessily, how she used to look. Spots swim before his eyes. He can hear her gasping for air she doesn't need.

This time, she reforms. He can tell because Cessily has begun to babble hysterically, her eyes wide.

"Calm down. Shh." Sofia wraps her arms around the girl and pats her back soothingly as Cessily sobs.

**…**

"Julian!" Sofia says, with a wide smile.

He turns. He and Laura were on the concrete block outside the base, which used to be a loading bay. They have been discussing the latest information regarding the  
Messiah child. The file. They haven't really had time to analyze it before the attack on the previous quarters. Laura has presented several ideas, ideas that are logical,  
possible, and even probable. Julian is beginning to think that there was more to the situation than any of them had ever known.

"Look!" Sofia holds out her palm, and a small air vortex twists over the surface.

Julian breaks into a relieved grin, kisses her hand, then pulls her close and rubs her back, saying something into her hair.

Laura looks away politely, as if something mildly interesting has appeared on the wall across the alley. But all she can see is dull grey bricks with a stain  
running down as such caused by a leaking gutter full of polluted rainwater.

**…**

They sit around the fire, their lean faces turned towards the warmth. The night is cold, and is creeping into the building. Out of the five, only Laura, Sofia and  
Julian are aware of this fact, and are bothered. Their clothing is worn and patched, offering little protection against the cold; this happens quickly to their  
equipment, as it is forced to endure so much on a daily basis.

"We need supplies," Julian says.

Silence. Laura nods. "There is a base nearby."

"Tomorrow, then." He rubs Sofia's shoulder absentmindedly, having laid his arm around her. He notes as she stiffens. "Maybe we can try for some clothes this time," he adds.

"I will look," Laura says.

"Let's make a list," Cessily suggests. "I have some paper. Anyone have a pen?"

Silence.

"No," Julian says, thinking of how pathetic their situation is.

"Oh."

Laura holds up a piece of charcoal from the fire. "This can be used. I will sharpen it."

"Erm…thanks," Cessily says.

**…**

"Ready?" Julian asks.

He, Laura and Sofia are crouched behind what was once a garbage bin, and they are looking at a large building. On Laura's back is a large sack, patched in areas; it hangs empty and deflated.

"Yes," Sofia says, her lips pressed together tightly. She does not like what they are about to do—what they have been doing for years.

Stealing food from humans. Reinforcing the stereotype that 'mutants are evil'.

Technically, she is only aiding and abetting in the theft of the supplies. Laura is the real thief, the one that races up and down the aisles and stuffs the bag full of vital supplies while he and  
Sofia cause a large commotion. Usually—once the security has been disabled—he joins Laura in the dirty work, pulling items off the high shelves that she could not otherwise reach.

It all depends on how well armed their opponents are, and whether or not there is a Nimrod-model Sentinel present.

Yes, Nimrod is a parent, or a grandparent, of a whole new type of Sentinel. These machines are nearly indestructible, and are programmed in a much different fashion than their predecessors.  
Synthetic consciousnesses allow the robots to gauge appropriate attacks, instead of just using a preprogrammed pattern; also the root purpose, engrained deeply into the Sentinel's system,  
is it is to destroy mutants. No exceptions. They are to be incinerated on sight.

Ironically it is a mutant who is responsible for the creation of these Sentinels; Forge. There are many rumors and stories about what was done to the man to extract the design out of his  
brain—and none of them are pleasant. All end in his death. Julian thinks that it was a probable outcome of the scenario.

Laura stares straight ahead as he reaches out and touches Sofia's cheek with the backs of his fingers, an affectionate gesture.

He straightens. "Get to it."

They are in motion. Julian's hand glows, a bright, neon green color; the barred, armored doors to the supply center crumple and are forced inwards, taking the frame with them. The whole  
_building _isn't made of metal, fortunately.

There are noises from within, agents reacting. Julian's first glimpse of the interior as he rushes through the doors is of armed personnel scrambling to pull their weapons to the ready. One  
guard has succeeded; he shoulders his automatic rifle and aims for Julian's head.

"No!" Laura says, her claws sweeping down and deflecting the bullet. It buries itself in the guard's knee and he stumbles backwards.

"I had it," Julian says calmly, from within his bubble.

Laura says nothing, moving forwards, towards the rations storage center, but her expression is of slight displeasure.

"You do not need to be so ungrateful," Sofia says mildly, sending a tornado down the aisle towards the reception desk (and the wall of security screens).

Julian says nothing. She doesn't seem to notice Laura's strange behavior where he is concerned.

**...**

Laura sweeps items into the open bag, her face once again free of expression. She has no desire to share her emotions. More than thirteen facility-free years have taught her she _does_  
have them, but they have failed to teach her what to do with them. So far, she's learned to just push them aside, to analyze them later, when she is alone.

She examines a row of canned beans, then sticks her elbow into the shelf and sweeps them in. _Clatter! _She dislikes the noise of the food cans bumping together, but it is a mild occupational  
discomfort. She is the only one well-suited for the job, able to think—quickly—what they will need to survive, and able to carry the bag once it is full and heavy. Also, no matter what is done to  
her, she will leave the building alive, with the food.

That's been tested before.

Laura goes through the various aisles, tearing open brown boxes with her claws and emptying them into the bag. Finally she cinches it up and turns to leave, gauging that her companions are  
still alive and fighting with ease by the sound of the battle. Her eyes catch sight of a stack of something vaguely familiar, and she drops the food satchel to approach it.

Cigarettes, the kind she has seen Julian smoking. She considers, then pops a claw and slices the box open carefully. She hesitates, then removes several cartons and returns to the bag. She  
does not approve of his habit but the thought of pleasing him outweighs her opinion.

Now she hurries back. She pushes open the swinging doors of the storage area and races up the corridor as fast as she can, given the load she is carrying. She bursts back into the security  
room just in time to watch Julian get shot in the stomach, an enormous cloud of red exploding in the air behind him and splattering the insides of his shield.

The wound is most definitely fatal.

She drops the bag, tuning out the sound of Sofia screaming. Odd that the other girl finds comfort in creating useless noises. Personally, she feels quiet inside. This may be because she has  
severed the head of the responsible assailant and has thrown it, like a bomb, at the militant leveling his weapon at Sofia, ready to silence her forever.

It _is_ like a bomb. The man cries out and leaps aside, his shot going wild. It clips Laura's arm, but she pays the wound no mind.

"Sofia, you must do exactly as I say," Laura instructs. "Take him to the base without jostling him. Lay him so his chest is slightly elevated, above his legs. Perform CPR if needed. Use the  
medical kit to extract the bullet, or have Cessily do this. I will disable our opponents and meet you there." She wishes that the other person were not Sofia; then she could take Julian  
there herself. She needs to be there, because her blood is the best chance he has at survival; but she cannot trust Sofia to permanently terminate their assailants.

"But—" Sofia sniffs.

"Do it." Laura makes a fist; her claws slide out. "You are killing him by remaining."

Julian's lips are turning blue, and he's staring up at them with glazed eyes.

"…do it," he wheezes after a moment.

Sofia begins to cry, but to Laura's relief she steps into action, lifting their wounded companion with an air current.

Laura closes the mental door to that thought, and opens a new one: execution.

**…**

"Laura!" Cessily says as the fifth member of their scraggly group barges in and allows the supply bag to drop on the ground with a _crash!_

The wounded is in the center of the room. Her eyes are fixed on him as if there is no one else in it. Sofia has carried out her instructions to a T, and is kneeling by his side, holding  
something in her hand. Beads, of some sort. Laura knows them to be prayer beads, and remembers when she's last seen the other woman with them. About twelve years ago,  
when they'd been captured by an experimental laboratory. Laura had been dismayed but not surprised to learn there were more testing facilities, and that mutants were become  
a rare commodity since M-day.

"Cessily, the first aid kit," Laura says, not allowing herself to cloud her mind with memories. She has work to do. "Please move," to Sofia. She rolls up her sleeve as she speaks,  
exposing the smooth skin of her forearm. Smooth except for a few tiny, white, X-shapes scars on the inside, near her wrist.

Sofia has moved to the side, but has not completely left. Laura accepts the box from Cessily and opens it, her fingers rummaging through the contents and finding a tube, and a  
needle. She turns her forearm over, then holds a piece of rubber out to Sofia. "Tie this around my arm."

The girl complies silently. They have done this before. They know there is no guarantee that Laura's blood will work. Her healing factor had been noted to occasionally cause  
beneficial effects when she donated blood; depending on the blood type of the recipient, and his or her physiology. It had not worked with Sofia the time she had needed  
blood, but it had worked for Kevin Ford when he had been alive and a member of their party.

Julian's eyes are closed, and the bluish tinge of his lips has spread to the rest of his skin. Laura knows it is caused by the fact that he is not breathing properly. His ribcage is just  
barely moving, once every five or ten seconds; they are shallow breaths, far too shallow to be supplying his body with ample oxygen.

"Is he going to be okay?" Sofia asks, her brow crinkled.

"I don't know," Laura says, her voice soft. She inserts the needle into the now bulging vein of her inner forearm, and sits back on her heels as Sofia turns over Julian's arm to do the same.

"You will need to clean the wound. I will tell you what to do if you need," Laura says to Cessily, who has become semi-knowledgeable in first aid through assisting her. Her friend nods.

Laura watches in silence as Sofia pulls his head onto her lap and then strokes his forehead, unable to help in any other way though desperately wanting to. She closes her eyes and  
tries not to let herself think. All she is good for, all she is needed for, is her blood…she's just a clone…just a clone…she brings destruction and loss wherever she goes and he's  
happy so…she won't…

"That's enough, Laura," Cessily says suddenly. Laura's eyes flutter; she realizes they'd rolled back up in her head. She moves; she's slumped to her side from blood loss. She feels  
weak and hypoglycemic. How much has she given?

She focuses on Cessily's concerned face, and beyond. Julian's still there, but the hole in his side has been bandaged up. She can see the white strips through his shirt, which  
has been pulled closed again. He's still blue.

"…no," Laura says, her voice hoarse and sleepy as Cessily reaches to take the needle out of her arm. "…he needs…."

"We don't need _you_ dead too," Cessily says.

Laura's eyes slide shut. "…he's who we die for…" she quotes Wolverine, about thirteen years ago, holding her by the throat. Somewhat quotes. He was talking about…talking about…talking…

**…**

"Laura?"

She hears the name her mother has given her. _Had_ given her, about 28 years ago now. Laura's not sure how old she is. The name doesn't belong to her, doesn't describe her, doesn't really identify her at all.

X-23 does. One, an X, a variable, amongst many. Clones. Laura always found algebra strict and sensible and she thinks her algebra name describes her better.

"Oh, god, I think it was too long…we need to get her to help."

"No." Laura's eyebrows draw together, and she sits up, feeling her heart pulse in her chest as her blood pressure changes with the elevation. She touches her head; it feels too large. "Is he conscious?"

"No," Cessily says. "He's…oh, Laura, I think he's…"

Laura focuses, and hears it. His heart has grown fainter.

"We will take him to a medical center," she says, struggling to get to her feet. "I will…I will take him…and…"

"No, Laura, I will do it," Sofia says firmly. "You are in no condition. I have done nothing to help him." She says _him_ in an unconsciously possessive way.

"Alright." Laura says this because she knows she cannot stand up. She must have drained blood into the tube for an hour. She hasn't felt so weak since the day her biological matter  
was almost broken down by an overextended period of chronological displacement.

"Where is the closest center?"

Laura tells her. As Sofia collects him, she allows herself to take a last look. She might not see him again, ever. Not living, at least.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks for reviews! Glad you like! :-)

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**Chapter 4- **

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep…._

Julian thinks that what he is hearing is the world's most annoying alarm clock, to go with the world's most uncomfortable bed. He very slowly realizes it's  
not a bed, and it's not an alarm clock, it's a heart monitor.

He realizes he is blind. He cannot see. Horrors! He almost panics, then realizes he has forgotten to open his eyes. Feeling vaguely stupid, he tries to part  
the lids, and finds it difficult. They are like the sheets of lead used for X-rays.

What he sees…what…a golden face is obstructing his view, about three feet away, and a matching pair of hands is leaving his temples.

"—should do it."

"_JOSH?" _he tries to ask, but what comes out is "bwrrmp", a sound somewhat like a trumpet. His mouth is full of plastic. There is a tube going down his throat.

"HRAAACK," he gasps.

"Quick, get it off him!" Cessily yelps, from somewhere nearby.

A struggle. Then suddenly he is breathing freely. He sits up and pants for breath, his head hung. He's very disorientated. Then he remembers what he saw,  
and he looks up. His face splits into a grin.

"But—how?"

"Guess who?" Nori's voice. He whips his head around; she waves at him from the curtains. "And no, you're not dreaming."

Nori's changed. Her bright blue hair is no more. She has straight black hair, with bangs; he can't see her gauntlets, just metal bands on her wrists, and she's  
in a different kind of uniform than when he last saw her.

"But—I saw you—" he says, confused.

"Saw us get hit by a big wash of light, and then you couldn't find us?" she supplies. "It's a long story, and we've got to get you out of here. Place isn't safe."

**…**

None of the five know what to say. They've lived thirteen years believing they were the last of the X-men, and now they've discovered that they're not.

Nori brings him up to date as they are sitting around a table. While nowhere near the mansion's standards (with Spartan furnishings, cots for beds, and a small portable  
Cerebro unit), their 'headquarters' are much better than anything Julian and his friends had managed to obtain.

Plus, they have Hank McCoy. And Logan.

The story goes that Josh was too valuable a cog in Cyclops's plan to be lost; therefore he had been abducted—instead of incinerated—by the ray of light they had  
seen. Nori had been holding his wrist at the time and had been dragged along for the ride, which, according to their story, seemed to be quite a long one.

"We've been looking, too," Nori says. "For the Messiah child. Hank's made chronological devices…because we're never going to find her _here._ You really think that  
Cable would stay in the present when he can time travel?"

"I doubt it," Julian says.

"I always _knew_ you were out there," Josh says. "We looked, man. Either you're really good at hiding or extremely un-fucking-lucky."

"Probably the first," Julian says. "We had Laura." He spares her a glance; she's sitting at the end of the table, her arms folded and her back slumped against the  
support of the chair. She looks tired, and does not meet his eyes.

Sofia is all smiles. She holds his hand under the table.

**…**

Julian stands outside, on a block of cement, and blows a cloud of smoke into the air, looking into the sky and wondering what else is going to happen. What if they really  
_find_ the Messiah child? What will they do with her? Ask her to fix the world?

And offer what in return?

_Crrnch, _the creaky door closing. He glances briefly behind him; it's Laura, wearing a floppy sweater that is obviously not her own. She looks tired still.

"Not over it yet?" he asks mildly.

"No." Laura is looking down, her eyebrows scrunched against the blare of the gray clouds. The sun is trying to shine through the smog, and the effect is deceptively dazzling,  
especially to her extremely sensitive eyes.

Her cat eyes.

"Why the hell not?" He's in the mood for conversation, and it would amuse him to hear Laura's extremely technical explanations. He's never, not once in thirteen years, heard her  
laugh, or make a joke, or even really express an opinion (except for those related to missions).

"Materials." Laura leans against the cement pillar. "I have been depleted of resources. I will need to ingest more."

"So go eat," he says, blowing out more smoke. "Don't waste your time out here."

Laura is silent.

He eyes her. Decides to egg her on to whatever it is she's come out here for. Laura's never approached him without a purpose (although she found enough of those over the  
years). He'd better do it now, before she gets more persistent. Nip it in the bud, like. "We're hardly on speaking terms, most of the time, and you'd kill yourself to save my life?"

Laura hesitates. "Yes."

"You're weird, clone," he says, flicking ash off his smoke. "Never seen anything so pathetic. Laura, really…thirteen _years?_"

Laura says nothing. Doesn't even flinch. Her face remains blank, cat like.

_Mechanical animal_, he thinks.

"Good talk," he says, throwing his cigarette on the ground, grinding it out with his heel. He opens the door and goes inside.

He doesn't notice that Laura remains like that for a long time, not even blinking.

She's transfixed on something beyond herself, something only she can see. And she trembles slightly from all kinds of exhaustion.

**…**

"I'll join you in a few minutes," Sofia says. She's sitting with Nori, and they seem to be having a good time. He kisses her, then heads to the small room they've been  
given, with two cots pulled together and attached with plastic ties.

He enters the room, pulling his t-shirt off as soon as he's shutting the door behind himself with his foot. He throws it on top of a small pile beside the cot, kicks off his shoes, and…

"AHHH—" he is whipped around, pressed into the door—by—Laura?

Her green eyes are blazing.

"I am _not_ pathetic," she says, her fingers tight on his throat. "You owe me. You owe me your blood. You are correct. For thirteen years I have tolerated your insolent  
attitude. But I will not permit you to pity me."

Julian stares at her, his eyes as wide as they can go. He's never heard Laura say anything like this. He'd have thought hell freezing over was a safer bet.

"Do not forget that." Laura's grip loosens, lets him go, and his feet meet the ground again. Again? He realizes that she just lifted him off the floor with one arm, and he feels dizzy.

He coughs slightly, rubs his mouth and looks at her, disturbed.

Laura watches him for a moment, then reaches for his side. In a moment of panic, he thinks she is going for his crotch (her hand _is_ cupped), but her digits instead clasp the  
doorknob and twist it savagely.

"Move," she instructs him.

"I—" he's not sure what he should say—should he be angry? Should he tell her he'll kill her if she touches him again? Will she be cowed by his displeasure anymore, or  
has that golden age died out?

Her fingers burn on his throat. The door closes with a soft _whumpf, _and he rubs the hand print still apparent on his skin.

**…**

Mechanical animals. Julian is having a terrible nightmare, in which robotic monkeys are chasing him around. He tries to cry out, but he has a big piece of plastic in his throat. He runs  
down a long corridor, and right into what is obviously the king of the mechanical animals.

Rather, the queen. It is a huge metal cat, slinky, all shoulder blades and softened instep, its tail flicking back and forth. And it has Laura's green cat eyes. It circles him, making  
weird growls that echo in its metal ribcage.

"JULIAN!"

He is woken by a small tornado sweeping over his face. He lies back and gasps for air, rubbing the still-burning part of his throat. Sofia is leaning over him in the dim light from  
the moon outside, her big brown eyes full of concern.

Not green, thank god. He hates green now, which may be a problem for him, seeing as that's the color his abilities make.

"What is the matter?"

He doubts she'd understand the dream. It's too weird to explain it to her, anyways.

"Nothing," he says.

**…**

"Now we can have someone out looking at all times," Nori says. "Every time we jump, it takes a toll on our system. We have four days to search—well, like 94 hours—then—"

"Biological decay occurs, and death of cellular matter." Laura says. "It has been improved on. The first model only allowed for 32.5 hours."

All eyes are on Laura.

"You've used it before?" Nori asks.

"Yes."

"What? When?"

"Acting under the orders of Cyclops." Laura looks at Josh. They both know what happened there, then.

Julian glares at Laura. She's never told him any of this. She has been to the future? What did she see? Did she see the Messiah child?

"That's great," Nori says, unaware of the sudden anger. "You'll be the next ones to go out, then. With me. We have monitors searching for spots in time that Cable is likely to  
show up at. We can use all the backup we can get, seeing as I can't count the times we've had to fight monsters from the future…"

**…**

"Laura," a gruff voice says in acknowledgment.

She inclines her head but says nothing.

They look at each other for a moment, the original and the clone. Who have not spoken in thirteen years, having come to blows at their last meeting. Around the  
time that Logan basically told her she was of no value.

Does he regret it?

No, he does not. She can see it in his eyes—he thinks she is a killer, a cold-blooded, heartless savage built to rend and tear. He is incorrect to label her with what he fears himself to be.

They stand in silence for a moment, then Laura continues walking. Logan watches her go, squinting against the brightness of the sky. He's got a few threads of gray  
in his hair—he can still count them, so he's not worried.

Not worried about that, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER/WARNING: This chapter contains M to NC-17 content. Do not read if you are underaged.  
**

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Glad everyone is liking this story so far! X-D  
**

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**Chapter 5- **

Julian backs away as the metal cat slinks against his legs with the quick moves of a hunter. Its purring, the sound resonating in the metal frame. He can feel it vibrate up his leg on contact.

She is growling.

"Laura…" he says, trying to persuade her not to attack. Pleading. "Please…"

_SMACK!_

His eyes snap open. His cheek is stinging. The room is dark, but he can see Sofia's outline. She is sitting up in the bed, turned to him. She looks furious.

She says nothing.

He tries to put two and two together but fails. "What…"

"We will not discuss this," Sofia says, her voice strained. "Good night."

She lays down again, curling away from him, and he says _what the fuck _in his mind because he has no clue whatsoever about what has just happened. To him, Sofia has spontaneously slapped  
him, then informed him that there will be no explanation, and rolled away to sulk.

_Women. _

**…**

"The devices are recharged," Hank announces one morning. "I believe you could safely make another attempt. Were was it you tried last time…3050?"

"4019," Nori says. She is strapping something onto her arm. "Let's see…Laura, Josh…and Julian."

"Wha—" Sofia says from the table, where she and Julian have been drinking coffee. "What about me?"

"You'll go next time," Nori says, tossing an armband at Julian. "Put it on tight."

Julian considers it, then passes it to Sofia. "You go. I'll sit out."

"But I want to go _with_ you," Sofia says. Something about the way she says it is wrong. Julian frowns, touches her cheek, then holds out his arm. "Set me up."

Sofia sighs, slides the armband up his arm as he takes a sip of coffee. He doesn't notice Nori turning a dial, and suddenly his chair disappears, but the coffee remains in his hand. He falls, choking.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you…don't hold onto anything you don't want to bring with you," Nori said, grinning.

"You did that on p-purpose," Julian sputters, wiping coffee out of his eyes.

Josh is amused too, but a glance shows that Laura, as usual, has no reaction.

All is soon forgotten as they take in their surroundings. They fall silent. They are surrounded by towering skyscrapers, or the skeletons of skyscrapers, some with windows still intact, some  
shattered. Vines have grown up the sides; trees have worked their way through every space, and large areas of the pavement beneath their feet is grass.

It is obvious that there are no more humans, period.

"Nice place to bring a kid," Julian says offhandedly.

Laura and Josh exchange looks, knowing looks. There is something they both know but are not sharing with the others.

**…**

"Ah, god damnit!" Nori said, shaking her handheld device. It was, apparently, a mini Cerebro that Hank had created. "It's out again, Josh."

"Good," Josh said, sarcastically, as he glanced at his own device. "Mine, too. There must be some sort of interference going on."

They moved down a slight incline, picking their way through rubble, Nori glancing this way and that all the while. "Yeah. See?" she says offhandedly to Josh.

Josh glances at Laura again. "I don't like this," he says.

"What are you talking about?" Julian asks, bringing up the rear. They're examining their surroundings.

Nori points to the air. Julian realized there are clumps of dirt just floating in the emptiness, unsupported. It is a strange effect.

"Telekinetic event," Nori says, expertly.

"But _I _don't—"

"You're nowhere near as powerful as the Messiah, are you?" she cuts him off.

Julian is annoyed. "Like _you're_ one to talk, Ashida."

Nori surprises him. "Keller, I was being realistic. It wasn't a stab at you. The Messiah child is just incredibly powerful…god-like. Be glad you're normal, compared to her…it must be horrible to  
be responsible for something like that."

Julian isn't used to this from Nori. She really _has_ grown up. It used to be so easy to get her angry. She's continuing down the slope, saying something to Josh.

Laura is…Laura is standing there, still, looking at _him. _Her expression is odd.

Teetering.

"Something to say, X?" Julian asks. He recognizes the look.

Laura pauses.

"No."

She follows the others down the hill.

**…**

"We'll camp here," Nori says, finally, on the evening of the second day. Everyone's quite exhausted—not only have they been up for two days solid, but they've been walking for  
tens—it seems like hundreds—of miles. Julian's body aches all over. His forehead is covered with perspiration, partially from the physical exertion, and partially from the damn tropical _heat. _

The spot Nori has chosen is an old cement parking garage. Its dilapidated and the dying sunlight pokes through holes in the ceiling, but its solid, and easy to escape should some of  
the creatures they've heard in the distance approach.

Secretly, Julian wonders why the Messiah child would ever have been brought to such a horrible place.

A campfire is lit, and sleeping bags are rolled out. Food is heated over a small camp stove. Not only does Nori's group have a base, but supplies for when they are _away_ from the base.

They eat beans and bread made from batter and powdered milk from camp food kits. It tastes delicious. Once finished, his stomach full, Julian wobbles, his eyes sliding shut even as  
he is addressed by his companions.

"Sleep sounds good," Josh says helpfully.

"Yeah." Julian barely manages to crawl into his sleeping bag, and he is out like a light, into a sound, dreamless sleep.

Or not so dreamless.

Big growls, strange high-pitched noises, like the ones they've heard off in the distance all day. Making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He runs down the white hallway,  
as always. Into the jungle-like landscape of the abandoned city. He feels his heart pounding in his chest.

The cat, the huge metal cat, is behind him. He can hear its paws, clanging on the cracked cement, the skips when it leaps over obstacles.

"Please…oh, god, please…" he pants.

He trips on a root and feels his heart skip for real. He is starting to wake up with a jolt. The cat has caught up to him, dips in close, and right in his face, it roars, exposing huge  
metal teeth. It is going to kill him.

"Laura…please…I'm begging you—"

The cat lunges in for its first bite, its fangs sinking into his throat. It's the most painful thing he's ever felt, and he can't scream, the blood just bubbles around the puncture wounds.

His eyes snap open, and he sees the cat change into Sofia's figure. It's dark, as the fire has gone out, but he doesn't care, he needs to be held right now, because he just died,  
and realized he's alive, at the same moment. He gathers her into his arms and buries his face in her neck, making frightened noises. He's acting like a child but he doesn't care.

She lets him hold her till he stops shaking, and finally he pulls away, to kiss her in thanks, and maybe more, because he has to reaffirm his manhood after sniffling like a baby for  
five minutes. And he's been pressing himself against curves.

So he holds her by her shoulder, his other hand running up her neck to her jaw, feeling, guiding her closer. He kisses her gently, then a little harder as he tries to forget what has  
happened. Sofia stiffens, then allows him to delve further.

His hand slides down now, from her jaw to her collarbone, to her breast. It feels amazing, the nipple poking straight through the fabric of her top to his palm, the breast held  
up by muscles so it is firm and full.

And much larger than he is used to. He freezes, his lips still on hers, and then he realizes other things feel wrong.

It's not Sofia. It's Laura.

"Oh—" he releases her instantly, or pushes her away, rather. This is not what he wants—not at all. He wants to be as far away from _her_ as possible.

He hears her inhale a few times, a bit heavier, in the darkness. Then, Laura speaks. "You were dreaming," she says in her low, melodic voice.

He doesn't answer. What can he possibly say?

"You said my name."

"I was d-dreaming," he whispers. "Go away, clone."

Laura watches him in the dark. It unnerves him that she can see his face, but he can't see hers. He finally forces himself to lie down again and turn away. His palm is  
burning—everywhere he touched her is burning and tingling like it is on fire. Only because what has transpired is wrong.

In the corner of his mind, he wonders if Laura is as turned on as he is right now.

**…**

Julian pats his pocket absentmindedly. He'd like to smoke right now; his nerves are frayed at both ends. Both receiving and sending. The sounds in the distance are _really_ starting  
to worry him—bloodcurdling screams and squelches, unearthly, inhuman. Sometimes the air is filled with clicks.

The lack of communication between the team is worrying him too. Laura and Josh—there's something they know. He's a hundred percent positive of this now. He wonders—behind  
his anger—why they would conceal it. What worse could possibly happen to them if they were to shed some light on the situation for him?

And that bad dream he had the other night. He barely remembers what transpired. Some sort of night interaction with Laura—accidentally groping her in the dark or something. He  
was initially afraid she'd try for more, but Laura has maintained her distance. He can't even catch her looking at him, but the hair on the back of his neck prickles sometimes. He's  
convinced that _that_ is when she looks at him.

Julian looks up at the sun, hidden in a mist of clouds.

"We must return soon." Laura has ventured out to where he is standing, apart from where the others are sitting by the rekindled campfire. "Or risk damage to our systems."

"I'm _all_ for leaving, ASAP." Julian says flatly. "There's no way the Messiah is _here._ This is a country without a savior."

Laura looks uneasy but says nothing. She follows behind him as he walks towards the campfire.

**…**

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Something starts making a noise as they are walking through the woods; Nori stops and checks her armband.

"Time's up," she says. "Unclip your bands, we're going back."

"But we still have a day or so," Julian says.

"I don't like cutting it so close," Nori says. "It's best not to push our luck."

As she speaks, her fingers are unfastening the buckle; as the two halves part, she suddenly disintegrates into…air. Julian looks to the side and watches as Josh follows suite, leaving  
Laura, her fingers poised on her device.

"Like this?" Julian asks, raising his own fingers to his band. She nods almost imperceptibly; he presses the button as she is about to press hers.

Nothing happens.

"Wait—" his eyes go wide with terror, seeing Laura's fingers flex. Somehow she manages to not press the button.

"Is it stuck?" she asks.

"I dunno." He tried to look at the button. Laura strides over and peers at the circular disk, sticks out a finger and pokes at it.

Nothing.

"Okay, no sweat," he says. "Can you cut this off for me?"

"No_._" Laura takes hold of the wrist of the arm wearing the band. "The connection must not be severed. You will not be taken back."

"Oh." Julian waits for a while, in silence, as Laura holds his wrist firmly and stares at the arm band. Like a cat, studying prey. Her grip is firm and muscular. He almost shudders but refrains.

"Well…we just going to stand here all day?" he asks finally.

Laura takes a deep breath, as if she has been holding it. "No." He sees her chest rise and fall, because he was watching it, he realizes, feeling a flush of embarrassment. Then again, it's  
nothing to be ashamed of; X has fantastic breasts. He's always been a fan of _those_, at least. She's never seemed to mind displaying them (which used to cause some trouble for the male  
teens on the squads, as they wore spandex uniforms that easily revealed attraction).

Yeah, and he just touched one two nights ago. And it felt even better than it looked. He's not afraid to admit he'd like to touch it again, but the admission is more like that of a child that  
wishes to poke play dough putty.

Experimentally. Laura is an experiment, and anything he wants to do with her would fall in that category.

"…am trying to examine the seams of the lock," Laura says, her finger running over the seam in the arm band. "Perhaps I will be able to loosen it."

"Sure," Julian says.

_Snkkt, _one little point of gleaming adamantium splits the skin between the knuckle of Laura's right hand. She carefully slides it against the tiny space. He watches her work on the band for  
several minutes, thinking of what he has seen that claw _do_ over the years.

Finally she leans back. "I believe that will be sufficient." She presses her finger on the dial; again nothing happens.

Julian begins to feel nervous.

**…**

"We should not have moved," Laura says again, disapprovingly.

They are in a dilapidated building, hiding in a corner, their hearts pounding in their chests. Well, Julian's is. They just _met_ the creatures making the awful noises—horrible half human,  
half insect hybrids.

Julian's seen some weird mutants over the years, but these are beyond him. They are disgusting perversions—and extremely cannibalistic. One has bitten Laura's hand off, and she's holding the  
bleeding stump in the air as if nothing has happened. As she speaks to him, he notes that white lines are creeping out of the wound; as she finishes the sentence, it is apparent that they are bones.

He turns his head away and closes his eyes. Laura is beyond him as well.

"You should…" he says.

"It will heal," Laura says calmly. As if she is not in pain. Maybe she isn't.

A few minutes later, she puts her hand on his shoulder, the hand that has just healed. He wants to throw up. "We must go. They will smell my blood—it is a potent scent."

"Sure," he says.

**…**

Nighttime. They are in an old, pitch-black warehouse. They have finally lost their pursuers. Laura has shoved heavy crates in front of the steel doors, and is now working on making a fire in the  
middle of the room with some matches, having lined pieces of steel in a ring shape on the floor to contain the flames.

Julian watches a spark fly up in the air, and land on the branches, illuminating them. Laura leans forwards and blows on it carefully, her lips pursing in the light. The spark glows brighter, almost  
dies; then she blows on it again and the flame catches, flares up.

Laura sets the small pile of flaming pitch down in the circle, then sits back. She is expressionless, as she always is, her nostrils flaring, in and out, in and out.

Is she waiting for their next attackers?

Julian studies her in the firelight: her hair is disheveled, she has dried blood and dirt smeared all over her face, and her clothes are shredded. Her shirt has a large sticky dark area on the center,  
and through the rips he can see her white skin, now healed.

She is so damaged because he can't use his powers here, for some odd reason. There's a feeling of resistance when he tries, and he can't break through. It's strange, because Laura has no problem  
with healing, or any of her enhances senses. It's just him.

Her hands move up to her shirt. _Shrippp, _she begins to tear the remnants away.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

Laura pauses. "The blood. They will smell the blood. I must burn the shirt."

Julian says nothing. She is right. He watches for a moment as she continues to rip the material off, then looks away politely. He hears a _whumpf, _then the sound of crackling, and poking, as Laura feeds the fabric into the fire.

They sit in silence for a while, then Julian realizes she is shivering. The warehouse is cool inside. Feeling stupid, he reaches for the hem of his own t-shirt, pulls it off, and holds it out to her (trying not to look at her bra).

"No," Laura says. "You need protection more than I do. I will not catch cold, nor suffer any other ill affects. However, _you_—"

"I'm not going to be an asshole," he says. "Just take it."

Laura hesitates, then reaches out and takes the offered covering.

"Thank you," she says uncertainly.

"You're welcome." He draws his knees up to his chest and leans his chin on them, staring into the fire. He feels like he's sixteen again. Lost and frightened, and not understanding why his world fell apart.

Something he had thought he'd grown out of.

**…**

This time, he's standing at the mouth of a void, and he knows he can't go back. Behind him is everything he though was good, normal, fun, meaningful in life; ahead of him is…nothing. Just nothing.

He turns and the big metal cat is there, waiting, its black-rimmed eyes watching him expectantly. It twitches its tail.

"Laura…I'm not ready…I can't," he pleads.

It watches.

He turns back to the void. _He's not ready. _

"Laura…please…"

The cat gets to its feet and slinks towards him, fangs bared.

"Laura—no—"

It's closer. Crouching.

"I'm not—"

It pounces.

The cat hits him squarely in his chest, its claws sinking in. The momentum sweeps him off solid ground, into the void. All he can see is the gleaming metal in the dark.

"LAURA—"

He's awake now, awake in a burst of cold sweat, staring into the dark above him. The fire is crackling away, and when he turns his head, he can see Laura, on her side. Her head is raised and  
she is looking at him expectantly.

Did he say her name? He may have.

"Yes?" she asks.

He stares at her silently, then lowers his eyes. She won't understand.

"I had a bad dream," he says, surprising himself.

Laura is silent.

"I died." He pauses. "Not just died…I saw what death was. I felt everything go away, everything I ever loved…had…wanted…I was becoming part of the nothing. I had to be nothing to die."

"You are afraid of death?" Laura asks. Her voice is a murmur.

"Yeah." He considers. "Are you?"

Laura takes a while to answer him.

"Yes."

Julian sits up. He can't believe this, this answer from Laura, who is afraid of nothing, who has stared certain death in the face and made it yield to her. Who is literally the bringer of  
death. Who inflicts it without mercy.

He stares at her. Laura watches him back, calmly, not explaining.

"Why?" he finally manages.

He expects to hear a general explanation: _I'm not ready to die, I have so much left to do, so much to accomplish…_but that is not what she says.

"Because it takes my friends away," Laura says softly. "And then I will be alone."

They sit in silence for a while, and then Julian feels _it_, all around them, in the darkness. The subject of their discussion. It makes him feel claustrophobic. He crawls around the fire, to where  
Laura is now sitting, and tentatively puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he says, for lack of something better.

"Hi," she says back.

"I won't let anyone die. I promise," he says, even though he knows he can't keep this promise all that well. People die no matter what they do.

"Okay," Laura says. She hesitates. "I won't let you die, Julian. I…"

The fire crackles, filling the silence. He realizes that—after thirteen years of silence on Laura's part, and countless plausible situations—this is as close as she will ever come to admitting she wants him.

Her lips are parted, and she stares at him with an expression that clearly signifies she has left herself too undefended, and is waiting for him to kick her. To punish her for this transgression.

"Laura, I…." he doesn't know what to say, even though for years he's prepared himself for this possibility, of Laura popping like a zit, of snapping, and overwhelming him with her  
obsession. Yet, somehow, he was wrong in all his preparations. Laura's let silence speak for her, and it's much more effective.

_Sofia _hangs in the air between them. Why is he thinking about her? The woman that is basically his wife? There is no question. He needs to answer, to tell Laura—gently, since _she_ has been gentle  
about it—that she needs to move on, look elsewhere to fill this need. Amongst the few other choices she has left.

"—I want my shirt back," he says instead, which isn't an answer at all. _Oh, shit. _She hesitates; then he sees her hands reach for the hem, and the shirt lifts off her smooth, pale skin. Exposes it. She  
hands the shirt back to him, her expression showing mild displeasure.

Her skin breaks into slight shivers under his hand—which is still on her shoulder.

And then, he realizes, he wants her too. He has wanted her for a very long time, since around the time they met, actually. Physically. He wants to be the cause of the shivers; to find out  
what her curves look like without the fabric. To see her face with an expression of some sort. Sofia slips further from his mind as he becomes more certain of what he wants to do.

He hooks his finger under her bra strap, tests the weight imposed on the fabric, and feels himself respond to the knowledge that it is as heavy as it looks.

"You won't tell?" he asks. He slowly realizes she has not been privy to his innermost thought process.

She didn't need to be, it seems. She knows what he's asking. "No."

He decides that's enough reason. He has plenty of excuses for why what he's doing is acceptable. Actually, he isn't thinking much; it's mostly instinctual. In the next half an hour, he discovers  
that Laura's lips are like pillows (vanilla flavored), and that her breasts stay up without the bra; that she has a stomach most women would kill for; that she shaves her legs all the way up to  
the top of her thighs—and _there, _as well. He wonders how many people have known this. He also finds out that she is still a virgin (and later finds out it's her healing factor that causes this),  
and that he's almost too much for her (which feels incredible for him). And he _does_ see her face with some sort of expression, while he's making one himself.

After—almost immediately after—Laura is becoming bolder, wanting more. He pushes her back by her shoulders and tells her he can't (in a broken voice). The exhaustion is making him sleepy.

His last thought, as he slips off to sleep, is that he wishes he would have known these things about Laura when he was sixteen and in need of relief.

**…**

Some light creeping through the crack in the door awakes Julian, and he feels warmth against his side. And a heaving ribcage. He knows, right away, that it's not Sofia—he remembers what  
he's done, and now the guilt is striking him. At first its so heavy, he can't even move.

Then he begins trying to think back to his excuses. Laura shifts slightly, her head moving on his shoulder, and he looks down at her. Was it worth it? He's not sure.

How will he look Sofia in the eye when they return?

**…**

Now he _is_ looking Sofia in the eye. She is smiling at him, her wide, 100-watt smile, like she's lighting up the room. She's just embraced him.

"I thought…" she begins, her eyes filling up.

He realizes how much he loves her.

He rubs her back. "I'm fine. They found us in time." Josh and Nori had returned for them about an hour after they woke up. They'd had about three hours before their biology would begin to break down.

Julian realizes he never wondered if Laura would leave him there. _Her_ device hadn't malfunctioned. She could have just taken it off, but she hadn't.

He wonders what Sofia would have done.

"Did you guys do more exploring?" Nori asked.

_Exploring. _Oh, right. She is talking about the region, where the Messiah child should be. He stays silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Why hadn't they?

"We were attacked," Laura says calmly. "I thought it best we seek cover and stay in the locale, should you return."

_Should you. _She'd known, then, that there was a chance that no one would come back, and he would die.

"Probably a good plan," Nori says.

**…**

Julian dreams more, but now he is looking for the cat, in a dense, lush jungle. He hears sounds—he knows it is just ahead of him—but he can't catch up to it. He's filled with the sense that  
something terrible is behind him, something the cat will protect him from—if he can catch it. He sees a metallic flash between two trees, reaches out and snatches it—the tip of the cat's  
tail—and he wakes up, panting.

"Bad dream?" Sofia asks in the darkness.

"No." He turns on his side and stares into nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Wow, way to make a budding fan fiction author blush! Some very nice reviews in the past few days. Thanks, guys. Also note...when I slow down with posting, I'm either a) Dealing with nasty real life (I work part-time at the worst-place-ever-in-the-history-of-ever-a-Copy-Center and also am a student, finishing up some leftover highschool math courses, bleah) or b) Writing more...often I get so inspired that I end up cutting my sleep way short to write till the itch is gone. I promise I won't quit updating, and that any story of mine you have been reading will be finished :-)

Thanks for reading! ~onelildustbunni

* * *

**Chapter 6- **

Julian is annoyed, because Nori is tapping a map, laid out on the table, and speaking loudly, and everyone is agreeing with her. Just like the old days. He thinks she's wrong  
in her strategy. People are going to get hurt if they go about the mission _that_ way.

Sofia gives him a sympathetic look. She knows he has always hated arguing over plans. Usually, he is right, too. That is how he became the leader of their bedraggled group, he and Laura.

"…so we'll enter through _this_ entrance…" Nori's finger is on an X, on the bottom right corner. Julian thinks she should be pointing to the upper left.

"…and we'll…"

"…and _then…_"

Julian pushes his chair away. "Smoke break," he grunts, heading for the door in the back, to the concrete pad. He pats his pockets, finds his lighter and his  
carton. Pulls them out, opens the pack.

Empty.

He closes his eyes, then crumples the package and throws it away.

"You should not litter."

He starts, opening his eyes, and looks to the side. Laura's followed him.

"Go away, clone," he says. "Unless you have smokes, I don't want to see your face right now. I want to _relax, _not—"

Laura stops him. She has reached between her breasts—the breasts he was caressing only a night ago—or was it two?—and has withdrawn a carton, still wrapped in  
cellophane—and she's holding it out to him.

He stares. She just got a whole lot sexier—he's completely lost track of whatever inane thought he was on, whatever insult he was going to say. She's holding one of the  
things he wants the most right now, and she's smiling slightly.

He knows just how hard they are to come by.

"Take them," Laura says. "They are yours."

He reaches out, takes the carton from her fingers, and rips it open quickly. Perfect lines of cigarettes. He pulls one out, still unable to believe that she would have done this  
for him. It would be a small gesture to anyone else—but knowing that it was Laura that had done it—that she had managed to obtain these somehow when he thought  
very few packs _existed_ anymore…

"Thanks," he says finally, as he lights it and takes his first drag. Laura watches him, having earned this moment of observation. She's oddly bold, her expression hinting  
that she has a _right_ to be there.

Maybe she does.

He finishes the smoke, grinds it under his heel. Thinks about what to do next. He feels more relaxed.

Laura is still watching him, her eyes half-lidded. She's leaning against the wall opposite him, her leg raised with her heel against the supporting surface of the  
building. She says nothing, but he knows what she is thinking.

Remembering.

"Laura…" he rubs the back of his head and sighs. Tries not to look. "It was a mistake, okay?"

Silence.

"It won't happen again. I _love_ Sofia—I realized how much, when I saw her again."

Silence.

"I'd marry her if I could," he says. "If there was a way. She's…" he trails off, looking at Laura now to show her with body language that he is confident of his  
choice. He knows that it weighs heavily with Laura.

But he sees that her eyes are focused on his mouth, and she doesn't seem to be listening at all. He sees her working it all out in her mind, like an attack  
plan. She is breathing through her own mouth, not heavily, but her lips are parted.

He feels himself respond, even though it is directly contradicting what he has just said. It is as if she is fishing the reaction out of him, against his will.

"Laura…" he says again, much softer.

She doesn't react, just watches him say her name. As if she has extracted it from him and is enjoying it.

He realizes his eyes have wandered to the window of the room the others are in, discussing battle plans. Is he judging whether or not they can see? He tells  
himself no, he is not. He needs to turn around and return to the meeting, put his arm around Sofia, feel at peace. Content. Human.

Not like a piece of meat dangling before a rabid carnivore.

Laura speaks for the first time. Five words.

"I would hear an approach," she says.

"No." He turns; Laura moves from the wall and takes hold of his wrist.

"It has been a week," she says quietly, almost in his ear. "I can smell you…your body has increased release of the Oxytocin hormone. Your heart is beating  
faster, to supply blood to—"

"I don't need a description," he hisses, holding his hand up with her grasp around his wrist. "I can't control what my body is doing."

"You desire me," Laura says bluntly.

He pauses. "Yes," he says. There is no point in denying it. "I do. But I care about Sofia, and that's the difference between us, Laura. I won't hurt her, just to  
serve my own purposes. I—"

"How can she be hurt by what she does not know?" Laura asks.

"Because…well…" Julian struggles to explain this. "_I_ would know," he says finally.

"She is not telepathic."

"No, but…"

"You have already done this. Again will not cause more harm."

"…" Julian trails off. Laura leans in closer, and he thinks she is going to win him over with action when she stiffens and draws back. Now he can hear it too, the  
doorknob a few feet away turning.

"Julian!" Sofia calls. "Where did you go?" She moves so she is beside him; he wonders how he will explain why Laura is so close when he realizes that Laura  
is not even there. She is gone.

**…**

"Pass me the binoculars, Keller," Nori says impatiently.

"It's mine. Get your own."

"There is no _mine_ anymore. It's a survival tool. Hand it over or you're not involved." She's holding her hand, used to having her orders obeyed. Well, it makes sense, seeing  
as Nori _is_ the leader of the secret mutant colony she's established. The lives of over 30 people are in her hands, given to her by their owners. Her people love her, and  
would do anything for her.

Julian hands over the binoculars and feels stupid for being annoyed with her. They're hardly children anymore, and she's right. The binoculars _are_ survival tools. He glances  
at Laura, who is looking into the distance, not needing any optical implements. She can be his binoculars. _She's_ loyal to him, at least.

"Just as predicted," Nori says. "They're standing around with their thumbs up their butts. X, audio?"

Laura's lips part. "They are having a debate over musical preference. I count two guards outside, and twelve inside the premises. They are equipped with regular rifles, with  
.22 caliber bullets. Three have smoke grenades. The base commander has access to Head Quarters communications."

Laura never ceases to amaze him in the thoroughness of her descriptions, of her knowledge. It's almost like having one of the Cuckoos again.

They'd be a lot better off if she actually _was_ a telepath. Unfortunately, scrambling devices had been worn early on in the first of the catastrophic attacks on the school, and all  
of the telepaths had been killed, including Professor Xavier and Emma Frost.

"I'll scramble it," Nori says. "As planned. Keller, you're on shielding. Foley, you know what to do." She gives directions to a few others. Julian tries not to be  
irritated. That's all he is now—a shield.

He catches Laura looking at him, and has the feeling that she can read his mind.

**…**

"Keller, help them with supplies," Nori orders. "We've got it out here."

"But—" Julian is holding back a barrage of soldiers. He's even less useless than Nori had predicted; their opponents have vibranium bullets. Which go right through his shields.

"Not the time! Just do it!"

Laura is waiting, with another person. For some reason, Nori has allowed her to continue gathering supplies.

"Follow."

He reluctantly follows the two females into the storage warehouse, the pearl in this oyster they have opened. It feels strange to be focusing on survival supplies, when he's spent  
the last 13 years in charge of combat, and now he's been reduced to snatching duty. This is _Laura's _job, not his. He knows that Nori's colony needs more supplies, but…

"Here." Laura hands him a folded canvas bag. "There is a list inside it. We must hurry. Take only—"

"I know, only what's on the list," he says, impatient.

She pauses. Then she does something unusual.

"Julian...you were asked to do this because you have a high likelihood of escaping with the supplies, not because you are ineffective in combat. I…believe you are a capable combatant."

Has she just _reassured _him? She is expressionless, as usual, her eyes locked on him. Laura _never _reassures anyone. A part of him wonders how she could know what was wrong, when  
Sofia didn't seem able to put her finger on it.

"Let's just get it done," he says.

But, damn it, he feels better.


	7. Chapter 7

**7. Chapter 7-**

**

* * *

**

"We're under attack," Nori says calmly. Explosions—vibrations—the building is rocking on its foundations. "You all know what to do. Josh, Laura, Hank—if necessary, abandon base.  
Go into the future, find a different place before jumping back in the time flow. The Messiah is more important than anything here."

"Yeah, we know." Josh is healing the half-melted face of a girl. She is crying with her good eye. She was tased by a Sapien.

Laura is looking towards the doors.

"They are coming," she murmurs. "Twenty-five soldiers, armed with grenades, tasers, automatics, antimatter rays, and two Nimrods."

"_Two?" _Nori gasps.

"Jesus Christ." Julian looks at Sofia. "I don't want you here. You…you go with the others, Sof…please."

"Julian—" Sofia begins to protest.

"She stays," Nori says firmly. "She ate our food, she slept in our cots, now she'll defend us. We're only evacuating anyone with non-offensive powers…like Ernst."

"I will be fine," Sofia says. "We will face them together."

They all look towards the door, seeing it bend, glowing a bright pink color. The Nimrods are here.

**…**

Laura is flung through the air, and she hits the wall so hard the plaster crumbles around her. She pushes herself up, the wounds sealing behind the rivers of crimson that have painted her skin a bright red color.

She doesn't pay heed, however. She raises herself from the ground, her eyes on her adversary—her eyes on the Nimrod targeting Julian. He is shielding himself with a strong green distortion, so strong she can  
barely see his silhouette inside, but she knows it will not be enough once the machine has attacked once and adjusted to his powers.

A thought is in her mind, a distracting thought. A memory of what _he_ looked like, covered in red. She licks her lips, which are dry; she must develop a strategy, and she has little more than five seconds to do it.

_Nimrod. _There are two of them. Then…she will use one to defeat the other.

Laura darts out, towards the other machine, which has just shot _her_. It will therefore be adjusted at a higher energy level than its normal EconoSetting. Her claws emerge and she rams them into the side of its arm;  
she could use this moment to her advantage, having caught the machine unprepared, but she does not want to destroy it right now.

It has a job to do.

**[ Target acquired. Retrieving file. File acquired. X-23. Threat level: Sever. Recommended action: Terminate. Charging kinetogentic tubules. Begin in five, four, three, two…]**

She is a blur of motion; she has five seconds to force it to target the other machine.

"DON'T—" Julian, seeing her lunging towards the machine that is about to attempt to reduce him to a pile of ashes. He thinks he can compensate. He's burning with a desire to make it through. He can't leave  
Sofia alone. He can't let these shitheads win.

_**FWASH!**_

Laura is flung down, low to the ground, heat washing over her cheek and arm, and back. A wave of pink antimatter has rushed across the space that—a moment ago—she had occupied, and has obliterated it.

"…" Julian looks at the enormous smoking crater bored in the center of his opponent's chest piece. The machine has seized—for one moment—and then it begins to fade, as Nimrods do on the rare occasions they are defeated.

"_Uhn…_" Laura scrapes at the ground with her raw fingers. She is a burned mess, but she doesn't have time to deal with the pain. There is still the other Nimrod to deal with.

"Nicegoing!" Nori shouts.

"Got _you_," a soldier murmurs, aiming an antimatter ray at Laura's spinal cord. It will be a lethal shot, and Sofia, in the air, can see this. Can send a funnel of air down to remove the man's weapon, wrest it from his grip.

She closes her eyes, turns away and sends the funnel down to where Nori is fending off two officers with charges from her gauntlets.

_Zzzt, _the sound of the antimatter ray engaging. The soldier has braced himself for the kick of the rifle, and the spray of brains across his helmet, for he is boring a large hole in the girl's head. X-23, neutralized, finally.

Julian looks up at Sofia, sees her gazing at an area on the ground, then turn away. His eyes trace down, following the direction her eyes had been tilted in, and he sees what is about to happen.

"Fuck you!" he shouts, punching the air. The soldier flies backwards and hits a pillar, his legs sticking straight out. He slides down the column, leaving a trail of blood, his weapon clattering to the ground.

He looks back to where Laura was, but she's off the ground already, her claws out, her eyes on the second Nimrod. It must be dealt with before…before anything else.

**…**

Julian sits on the ground, nursing a broken leg. The Nimrod is gone, having faded away; a combined effort had been made, much similar to one made many years ago. The power cell was overloaded with a shot  
from an antimatter ray, something that had just been proven to have a devastating effect on the Nimrods. Julian wishes they had obtained one sooner, but they were incredibly hard to come by, and only special  
Sapien strike forces were equipped with such advanced and expensive weaponry.

"Is everyone alive?" Nori pants, holding her side and limping. Josh is healing several wounded people, people that were wounded more severely than themselves, such as Laura. She was struck with an antimatter  
ray in the thigh, and is bleeding at an incredible rate as her femoral artery has been clipped.

"Yes," Sofia says, landing. "JULIAN!" She has just seen him. She runs to his side, her face pale. "Are you all right?"

"Just a flesh wound." He wipes his nose on his sleeve and looks away. He keeps seeing her eyes, and with the pain, he can't think straight.

"Thank God. I knew He would not let us die today." She frowns, reaches out with her hand. Touches his chin, directing him to look at her for a kiss. He complies, but his eyes stay open, and over her shoulder  
he sees Laura, propped against the leg of a table, her face downturned and her skin pale and streaked with blood.

Her eyes open slightly, and look back at him. Then Josh approaches her as he tries to get a better angle for healing. He speaks, and she looks up, breaking the exchange.

Exchange of what?

**…**

"They'll be back," Nori says. "With more. I'm willing to bet on that. We need to redouble our efforts to find the Messiah. We can't exist much longer, now that they've got intel on us. We don't have time to wait for  
signals from the crynometer. We need to actively search. It's our only change."

Several soldiers escaped.

They are sitting in the remains of the small ready room, their heads bowed, their faces still streaked with the grit of battle.

On the table between them are six time travel devices.

"First we will move our base. Then Myself, Josh, and Sofia will jump to Beast's first choice; Keller, Laura, and Logan to the second. As soon as we return, we will move base again, never staying longer than 24  
hours in one place. We will only take half-rests. Josh will repair any damage that may occur."

"Please—allow me to go with Julian," Sofia says, strained. "We—"

"No. I don't want you distracted," Nori says.

"I would not—"

"Sof, it's…it's okay," Julian says quietly, looking at the table. He still can't look at her straight. "We do what we have to, right?"

Sofia pauses. "All right."

"Good. Pack up…we're leaving," Nori says.


	8. Chapter 8

**8. Chapter 8-  


* * *

**

On the trail, or so it feels as they pick their way through empty buildings and rubble, searching for a safe location for their next resting point. Bundles of possessions on their backs, all they could carry.

Julian stares straight ahead as he walks, thinking. Thinking of what he saw. He must have been mistaken; he knew Sofia would never…never look away, never purposely let someone get hurt. Even Laura.

Laura, who has saved _her _life before. _Oh god, she wouldn't, _he tries to placate himself.

At the campfires they make in the evening, in the ruins of an old office building. They sit in groups on the dirty carpet, frying batter in pans, and heating meat in tins. Sofia is gathering wood with several  
others as per Nori's orders; Cessily smiles at him from across their campfire.

"Hi!" she says.

"Hey." Julian stares at his cake, sizzling in the black pan.

"Everything alright, cap'n?" she asks.

"Yeah." He pauses. "No."

Cessily scoots over, and in a whisper, he tells her what is going through his head. Cessily's his friend, he can tell her anything, and know she'll keep his secret. He's kept many for her, in the past.

"…" Cessily looks strained. "She couldn't. That's a horrible thing to suggest, Julian. No one would do that, no one."

"I know what I saw," he says stubbornly.

Cessily is silent.

"I wish that Laura would just back off," Julian murmurs, rubbing his face. "She's causing problems. She's being selfish—she only thinks about herself. I told you before, about her crush on me."

"Yeah," Cessily says uneasily.

"She's really persistent. She looks at me all the time, and it's obvious what she's thinking. She's basically an animal, Cess, and she doesn't care how hard she makes my life. She—"

"That's not true." Cessily says, in a small voice.

He pauses. "Huh?"

"She…she cares." Cessily looks down. "You have no idea."

"She doesn't have a heart," Julian says coldly.

Cessily looks insulted, as if he has said this about _her. _"Julian…you've got a thing or two to learn. I've never seen anyone love another person as much as Laura loves _you_."

Julian stares. His cake is smoking in the pan, but he doesn't mind. "…what?"

"Ohmigod, she didn't tell you?" Cessily asks, looking horrified.

"Uh, _no?_" he says.

"…" Cessily rubs her forehead. "I wouldn't have told you if I'd known. She said she would never…never approach you…she wants you to be happy. I didn't believe anyone could hold out for so long…not say anything…"

"Jesus." Julian notes that his cake has caught fire, and he extinguishes it hurriedly with a soft _whumpf _of thought.

Figures are moving towards the campfires, carrying bundles of combustible materials. Cessily waves to Sofia as she approaches, and asks her some question or another in a friendly tone.

**…**

Awkward.

That is the one word running through Julian's mind as he, Laura and Logan stand in a small group, preparing to strap the time pieces to their arms. Sofia is also by his side, her forehead wrinkled.

"Promise me you will stay safe," she says, her voice strained.

"I will." He pauses. "You, too."

"I will." She smiles, then leans over and kisses his cheek. Now she is walking away, towards _her_ group of Nori and Josh, and he is closing the connection in the time device.

_Wrrrrrrrrrrrrllllttt. _

There is a big, long rush; only Laura and Logan stay visible, surrounded by a faint blue outline, their hair ruffling as they move through the time stream. They emerge, and he exhales a breath he  
doesn't realize he was holding.

"Aight, kids, let's hit it," Logan grunts. "S'pose Ashida gave you a rundown on what we're lookin' for already. She's a good kid."

He glances at Laura. It is the same kind of glance Elixir gave her. They know something, something he doesn't.

Julian wonders how many secrets Laura is keeping. He knows of several—of the secrets, not what the secrets contain. Her past. The Messiah Child. The missions Scott gave her. And her emotions.

Well, he knows about that now. He wishes he didn't. It was easier to be angry with her, frustrated, when she runs her eyes over him. Now all he feels is pity.

Actually, he's not sure. He just feels confused, and vulnerable, but he's not sure if it's just a feeling she projects, or if it's something she makes him feel.

But now it is time to focus, and focus he does. They must find this child, and they must find it _now, _or suffer the consequences.

**…**

For two days they search. They are in the abandoned red light district of New York when Logan catches scent of Cable. The man confirmed to—at one point—have the Messiah child. Julian's heart  
pounds at the thought.

They are getting close, for once. It would be just in time to save them.

**…**

"Summers," Logan grunts.

Julian stares, standing behind the older man. Ahead of them is Cable, the man he has chased for thirteen years. The man who has the child that will change the world, bring _his_ world back.

"Logan," Cable says, not looking pleased. "What are you doing here?"

"The kid. Hand it over."

"I can't do that," Cable says. "You _know _that."

Julian's never gotten this close to Cable. He is almost afraid to breathe. _He knows where the Messiah is. _He feels numb.

Logan shifts position.

"We got a lot of people dependin' on this, Summers…" he says. "Livin' for it, you could say. We're here to bring the Messiah back."

Julian can't see Logan's eyes, but he can see Cable's. The man is staring intently at Logan with his one natural blue eye.

They are in a run-down bar, and Cable is in a dilapidated coat, with a patch over his bio-organic eye. He has a beanie over his grey, shaggy hair, and he looks drawn and haggard. He has a scar on his cheek.

Cable speaks. "It's not safe for her there, Logan. Not with…"

He lives the words unfinished, as if he can't speak them. Julian knows he means Bishop, the man who wanted to kill the Messiah. Who caused the Xavier Institute to collapse by killing its guiding light.

"We'll protect her," Julian speaks up. "Nothing will happen to her as long as we're around. We'll do anything. We'll—"

"You don't understand!" Cable cuts him off, his voice sharp, strong. "You don't understand…what he is capable of."

Logan holds up his hand. "Kids…give us a minute. Go outside."

**…**

Julian puts his hands in his pockets, leans against the wall of the alleyway. He is abuzz with possibility. He wants to take off and find the Messiah, even if he has to search every house in New York City. He's  
desperate, with the light of hope in his eye. He might get his world back, if she is what they think.

He looks up, and notes that Laura is watching him, her face hard to see in the dim light of the streetlamp, but he can tell that her expression is sullen. He decides to focus on her to distract himself.

"So…uh….nice night," he says.

"Yes."

Silence.

"Thanks for, you know. Saving my ass back there," he offers, referring to her actions during the attack on the base.

"Do not mention it," Laura says, her tone flat. She's picked up a few nuances of speech over her thirteen years with him and his friends.

"Why not?" he probes. "I really am grateful. That was some quick thinking. I could've died—we _all _could've died."

"You are welcome, then," Laura says, looking down.

Silence.

He kicks the ground, and thinks of Sofia's actions. He has run them over and over in his head—seeing her look away. Did she really _see_ Laura, about to be murdered, and decide to do nothing, when it  
would be so easy to prevent?

_I've never seen anyone love another person as much as Laura loves _you.

He stiffens suddenly, recalling Cessily's words. Did Sofia know this? Did she feel threatened? Would she react to a threat in such a way?

He knew she was passionate, but…

Laura is looking at him again, returning his gaze. Her eyes are weary.

"I told you that I would not let you die," she reminds him.

"Oh, yeah," he says, for lack of a better response.

They fall silent again, and now he is reminded of his previous thoughts—before the attack on the base, and the subsequent relocation, and the situation with Sofia. The thoughts about what he and Laura had done.

Suddenly , he realizes he hasn't even felt guilt.

Before he can analyze this, Logan's outside again, looking drawn. He snaps to attention, back to more important matters. Survival.

"He won't spill. Looks like we're goin' back emptyhanded."

"…" Julian steps away from the wall. "No…we're going to find her. We _aren't _going back without her."

Logan folds his arms. "Kid…you don't get a say. I'm in charge here, and I'm sayin' we're goin' back. People need us."

"People need the kid!" Julian snaps, his eyes glowing. He can't believe that Logan's so ready to give up, just like that. He's not even going to _try. _This is the only hope they have  
left. The shit is so deep, it's closed over their head.

"And we're not gonna find her here." Logan growls this out, his knuckles white.

"…" Julian looks at Laura in confusion. For help. Logan is being unreasonable, he's disobeying orders, he—

Laura looks tired still. She touches her temple, brushing hair behind her ear.

"Please. Allow me to talk to him." Her words are directed towards Wolverine.

The older man gives her a sharp glance. "X—fuck _that. _I know what yer plannin', and this doesn't happen, understand? It's more than life or death for ya, here, it's—"

"I know what I am doing."

"No you don't! You have no clue what yer doin'! You never have! Why d'you think I gave up on you, X? All those years ago? You messed up big. And I'm not gonna let ya do it again."

"He has to know!" Laura says, angrily. Laura, angry? She's followed Logan out to the parking lot, her boots making heavy sounds in the gravel. She's almost kicking it, her movements violent.

"Know what?" Julian demands.

"Not fer yer ears, Keller. Not fer _anyone's. _Laura, we gave you orders…and yer gonna follow them, 'coz that's what you _do. _Understand?"

"Yes," Laura says, standing with her back ramrod straight. "No. He deserves to know. I've almost told him several times."

Logan glares at her. "If you try to break yer word, clone, I'll know." His words carry a threat, a threat of harm.

Laura doesn't flinch.

"Know _what?" _Julian says, louder.

"Be quiet, Julian," Laura orders.

"We're goin' back now. Understand?"

"Yes." Laura places her fingers to her device. Logan is watching her carefully; his fingers on the button of his own.

"Keller," he says. Julian still isn't touching his.

"Do it," Laura says, holding Logan's gaze. Her fingers graze the button.

Julian hesitates, then he moves to press the center.

"On three," Logan says. "One…two…three…GOD DAMN IT—"

He's pressed the button, and his words are cut off as he fades away. At the last second, her fingers depressing the button halfway, Laura pulls her hand away. Julian barely catches himself, having  
been about to completely depress the button to transport himself back.

"We need to have a discussion," Laura says, her tone even.

"No, we need to find that kid," Julian says angrily. "And then we need to let Nori know that Logan's not doing what she thinks he is. As I understand it, she's in charge, and Logan's supposed to  
answer to her. Something about Cyclops putting her in charge or something."

Laura lowers her head. "There is no child to find."

Julian stops.

"…what?" he asks, after a few moments.

"The child died." Laura says quietly. "Bishop succeeded in his mission to terminate her. She was slaughtered by a .22 caliber bullet to the—"

"Stop." Julian feels dizzy. "You're joking. Please tell me this is the day you chose to develop a sense of humor. It'd be a very sick one, but…"

"I am not joking." Laura folds her arms. "There is no Messiah, Julian…no one is going to repair the situation with an ability. It is doubtful whether the child could have done what you and the others  
have believed possible."

Silence.

"It is important that you do not tell anyone what I have told you. Logan believes—_Cyclops _believed—that the knowledge would devastate the survivors. Perhaps rightfully so."

Julian slowly thinks. She is right. There are people that were kept going, kept alive, by the thought that there was something out there that could fix everything, turn it back to the way it was.

They will kill themselves if they know the truth.

He feels hollow, and cold. There is no longer any purpose; he's just a scattered survivor, who has spent the last thirteen years in hell, and has just realized there will be no reprieve.

Thirteen years to no where. Thirteen…

"You will survive," Laura orders, seeing what he is thinking. He is thinking of staying here, till time begins to eat him alive. It already has, in a sense; now he will let it complete its work.

"But—"

"No." Laura is drawing back to stare at him. "Julian, you _will survive._"

"But—"

_POW! _His head snaps back as she punches him in the face. Sputtering, he grabs his now-bleeding nose, feeling stupid for not seeing it coming. He is a _telekinetic, _it would have literally taken a _thought_ to stop her.

But Laura is fast and viper-like.

"YOU WILL SURVIVE," Laura shouts at him. "_**DO YOU UNDERSTAND?**_" He's never seen her get so agitated about anything. Her voice is breaking, and he thinks she might be as close as she has ever been to being hysterical.

"Laura—it's a lot to drop on me," he says. "You—you just basically told me that everything I had—the little I _did_ have—is a lie, that I'm never going to have a life and be a person again. I'm going to be hunted down  
till I'm too weak to run. And there's nothing I can do to fix it. What's the—"

"I have spent all my life running," Laura says, her voice more controlled, although it still wavers. "You will never 'fix it'. You will never be 'normal' again. You must accept this, and learn to live for each moment of survival."

Julian gazes at her, then starts to grin, despite himself.

"Did you just tell me to grow a pair?" he asks.

"…" At first he doesn't think Laura gets the expression.

"Yes," she says seriously.

He kicks the gravel. "Great time for you to start calling me a wimp."

"You are not a 'wimp'," Laura says. "You are capable of much more than you allow yourself to be. You have developed strength I would have not thought possible in the years I have known  
you. You must not give up now."

Laura is telling him that he's respectable, in her eyes. He doesn't know how that makes him feel, but he knows that she _never _analyzes people, never shows her approval. Never encourages anyone.

"Please," she adds.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks, a little angry now. "I can't just swallow this and feel nothing…I'm going to need a little longer than five minutes to process the information."

"I want you to say…that you will not act as Cyclops and Wolverine have feared," Laura says. "I have invested many hours into protecting your life, and I do not wish them to be wasted."

He remembers her promise, _I will not let you die. _He feels guilty for his initial feelings of despair. Perhaps he should step back, not even think for a while.

"Who said they would be wasted?" he asks defiantly.

Laura remains silent, gives him her knowing look. He reaches out and touches her cheek. "You're a good friend, Laura," he says.

"Thank you."

He hesitates, then he kisses her on the mouth. Not out of desire—he knows as he pulls her closer—but as a gesture of affection, perhaps the first he has ever shown her. She is stiff at first, then he feels  
her wilt, like a flower that's been dying for attention all its life.

_She must be lonely, _he thinks, rubbing her back and just holding her.

Then he realizes his eyes are wet, and he's making noises. He's lonely too. Laura holds him back, her head on his shoulder and dampness seeping through his shirt. They think about dead friends, and  
losses, and the future that was torn from their grasp, by selfish adults who did not think of anyone but themselves.

It begins to rain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9-  


* * *

**

In the clearing—an old park—two figures suddenly appear, one arm around each other's waist. A man and a woman, in their mid or late twenties. Their appearance is that of middle,  
but the weariness that touches their eyes adds the 'late'.

Their clothing is soaked through, but their surroundings are dry. They are obviously not from this environment.

"We should hurry," the woman says. "They will move the encampment soon, and then we will have to catch up."

She leads the man out of the clearing, towards the dilapidated city.

The man stops and looks up at a building, wistfully.

"They used to sell ice cream here," he says. "Real scoop ice cream. Gelato or whatever. They had twenty flavors."

The woman watches him silently.

"Did you ever have ice cream?" he asks.

"Yes." She looks down.

"What kind?"

"Vanilla." She pauses. "With my cousin, Megan."

"I'd have pegged you for Strawberry," the man says, then follows her up the empty street. He keeps close—what they are doing is dangerous; two mutants alone in the War Zone is pure suicide.

Then again, fighting X-23 is pure suicide in itself. He considers himself more of an afterthought to her, like a back-up dancer for one of the pop artists he used to detest (although now he'd give  
anything to see their faces because it would be _normal_ and mean that he was truly alive again).

"We are close," Laura says, after about twenty minutes of walking. He has not complained once, because his muscles are hardened from thirteen years of survival living. He is used to walking. The  
moment he flies would be the end of his life, as he'd appear on about two thousand monitor radars, and acquire a string of air combat Nimrods.

**…**

"JULIAN!" A woman, girl-like, breaks away from the huddle of people that are packing belongings, and runs towards him, her arms outstretched. She is crying.

"I thought—"

He turns to look at her. He notices Laura slipping away in the background, towards Cessily. He wonders what they are going to talk about.

"I'm fine," he says, cutting her off. "Did you pack our stuff?"

She nods, her eyes luminous. For the first time, Julian feels slightly annoyed.

She's so _weepy. _

"Good." He heads towards the group in the center, Sofia following.

"Is everything alright?" she asks.

"Fine. I'm just tired." He stops, seeing Nori.

"Keller!" Nori bursts. "What were you doing? We needed you back! Logan said it was a no-go!"

Julian pauses. What was he doing? Learning everything he believed in was a lie, and rethinking some priorities. And thinking how he would cope in this strange new world,  
new because it was permanent.

"Laura thought she found something. It turned out to be a false lead."

Nori glares at him, but tells him to get back to packing. Apparently Laura is a good enough reason for her.

**…**

Julian tosses and turns. He's sleeping on a mossy bank, under a tree that has grown in a crater. The hole is in the middle of an old courtyard that is dotted with areas of decay from  
some battle or another. Maybe just a simple snuffing of a small group of mutants, no fighting back at all.

He drifts asleep finally, for a while, and he begins to dream almost instantly, as if it was waiting on the lip of his brain to begin.

There is nothing, just like he thought. There's no hope, no normal, no soft, no color. The world is black and white, and grey, plenty of grey. Always plenty of grey to go around.

But he's not paying attention to any of that. There is metal, the cat, gleaming. Suspended in the air as liquid. He touches it, and its warm; it struggles to respond, to form human  
futures. He takes its hand and watches it slowly turning into flesh, something it has been trying to do for a long time. It's Laura's hand.

"NNggn—" he wakes with a start, sitting up. Why is he so startled by this dream? It wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't startling. He can't put his finger on it. He looks around him, then his  
eyes fall on Sofia, sleeping beside him, curled on her side.

And she's not what he's looking for.

He understands, then. It hits him like a tow truck, how stupid he's been. How blind. He doesn't understand how he could so consistently miss the point, when all the facts have been  
so obvious for such a very long time, patiently waiting for him to figure out that one and one make two.

Julian hugs his knees, in the dark, and thinks about his revelation.

**…**

"We need to have a talk," he says, the cigarette resting between his fingers.

They are standing away from the others, under a tree. She is leaning against the trunk; he is standing a bit away, smoking, one hand in his pocket. He's nervous,

She looks at him, her eyes knowing, as if she has been expecting this.

"I have some things I need to say to you…and I think there's something you've been wanting to tell me, for a, uh, a little while now."

"No—"

"This has to be said."

"I would prefer not to talk about it, Julian."

He stops her, moves, blocks the direction she was about to slip away in.

"I think you want to hear this."

"No, I do not. I—"

"Well, you're going to hear it anyways, 'cause I'm going to say it. You ready?"

She looks down. "Please…do not. Do not push this. I was wrong in my actions. I was selfish. I—I will not do it again."

He reaches over, touches her chin. She looks up, and she looks miserable, her features forming a small pout. Her chin is crumpling, something he's never seen her do before.

"I value your friendship," she says. "I do not want to lose it. I—I have lost too many friends."

"You won't," he promises. He puts his hand over her heart area, feels it beat through her thin, worn t-shirt, and thinks of what he said before. "Look…I…I have to say this,  
because it's not going to go away, now that I know."

She tries to look away. He catches her chin again and forces her to look at him.

"I love you," he says.

Laura stops, uncertain.

"I know how you feel, already. Cessily told me…by accident." He sees Laura's slightly violated look, and feels bad. "She really didn't mean to. It's my fault. I was being a jerk…I said  
something bad about you, I have no idea why I said it because I was completely _wrong._ Anyways, she told me…so I would understand."

Laura draws a shuddering breath. "I don't understand…why…"

"It's a long story. But…I'm positive."

"But…Sofia?"

He makes a face. "I'll deal with her later…really, I don't know if things would've worked out…I found out something about her that seems pretty repulsive."

Laura doesn't question. For a while he doesn't think she quite comprehends what he has said, but then, very slowly she reaches up and puts her hands on his sides, as if she testing her boundaries.

"I missed touching you," he whispers, into her ear. He tosses the cigarette under his heel and grinds it out, wanting both hands free. In the minutes that follow, he takes his time, just paying attention  
to the delicate curves of her face and neck. He doesn't go further; he doesn't need to, right now. He's not in a hurry anymore.

His name is called by Sofia, who is searching for him. He squeezes Laura's hand, tells her he'll do it now.

**…**

"You are leaving me."

"Yeah."

Sofia stares at him, like she has just lost her world. She probably has. She's not the only one, though.

"But…Julian…" she says, lost. "…I love you…"

"I did," he says. He's picking up his things—a blanket—a small bundle of clothes—a metal canteen. "Then I saw something unbelievable. I kind of couldn't believe who I was in love with anymore."

"What are you—" Sofia sniffles, composes herself. "What are you talking about?"

"When I saw you turn away."

"…" Sofia plays dumb. "…what?"

"You know what I'm talking about. During the attack. When Laura was about to have her head blown off."

Sofia stares at him. He notes her making a fist. "This is about Laura, then."

"No—no, it's not just about Laura. How can I feel anything but disgust for something like that? Sofia—what you did—that's traitorous."

"I did no such thing." He sees, in her face, that she is lying. "When did you start calling her _Laura? _You used to call her 'X'. You said you hated her, and that she was creepy. Yet you call her name  
every night in your sleep. And now…" she glares at him. "You are leaving me for her, aren't you?"

"Yes," he says bluntly.

Sofia's face tightens. "I see," she says.

**…**

"Two," Laura says, peering through the binoculars. "Armed. Access to communications. There are more in the building. A patrolling Nimrod. We will need to plan an alternative route."

She hands the binoculars back to Nori, who looks grim. "This is going to suck. Adds another day or two to transit." They are heading towards the U.N. building, someone having recalled a mutant  
safehouse nearby that had remained open long into the raiding periods. It had never been found; all of its inhabitants had been captured on supply runs. It had become something of a legend.

"It's the best shot we have," Julian says.

"Yeah." Nori pauses for a moment. "All right, move out guys, North-East. Watch the volume. You can talk…but keep it to whispers."

Julian tries not to look at Laura too much. He knows Sofia is present, and he doesn't want to be mean, or hurtful. He did love her once.

They stop for a break twice during the day. During the first break, Laura disappears with her rations and he sits alone; at the second, however, he catches her glancing his way with a  
questioning look, and waves her over.

The group has chosen a small park to have lunch in. There are old picnic tables, and a few soot-blackened trees. He is sitting under one of the trees, not feeling like sitting too close  
to Sofia (who is at the tables, beside Cessily).

"Sit down," he tells Laura.

She hesitates.

"I want you to," he says. She finally settles down on a tree root, her ankle brushing his calf tentatively, almost accidentally. They eat in silence, but he doesn't feel the need to make conversation.

They do not get a chance to interact more during the day—even separated at points into different groups—but at nightfall, in an old Grocers market, he catches sight of Laura as she searches for  
a sleeping spot. The sentries are sitting upright and back to back for complete radial vision. It will be their turn later, after some sleep.

"Any luck finding us a spot?" he asks her, moving up with his belongings.

Laura looks at him oddly. "I was not looking for two."

"Well, now you are," he says, half-grinning. "How about over there?"

Laura follows him, uncertain, to a spot in the pharmacy aisle. The shelves have long been looted, and are full of dust. The aisles in the pharmacy are smaller than the rest, ensuring that they  
will not have to share. There's not much privacy, but just enough, the bare minimum.

He recalls the time she found separate rooms, and wishes they had one now. It doesn't matter, however; they aren't loud, or violent, or even visible. Glimpses are enough, and  
sensation. The more he does, however, the more he wants.

Later, thoroughly exhausted, his dreams are pleasant and content. He doesn't see anything in particular, but he is filled with a warm, happy feeling. He wakes a few times and holds her tighter.

**…**

"Julian."

Laura is shaking him awake, and at first he thinks he is dreaming.

"You have to get up. It is your turn to watch."

"Oh." He lies on his back for a second, rubs his eyes, then pushes himself up on his elbows. He stumbles to his feet a minute later and follows Laura to the front door, where the first set of  
sentries are. The others are watching the rear entrance.

After relieving the sentries, he and Laura take their place, sitting back-to-back.

Silence, for the first half an hour. Julian is still half asleep, his eyes sliding shut every so often. He has had a long day; physically, mentally and emotionally. A lot has changed in the past  
seventy-two hours; they've almost died, they've had to leave the base, he's discovered that his girl (also his friend) has a quality to her that borderlines murder. He's realized he doesn't  
love her, but he's also realized who he _does_ love. And to top it all off, he's discovered the Messiah—his God—doesn't exist, and the thirteen years of hell has all been for nothing.

Well, he's still defining what it has been for. He suspects it is not just nothing. But he can't quite wrap his mind around it now.

To top it all off, he's done a lot of fighting, climbing, walking; he's walked about seventy miles since the base was attacked. He's sleeping on floors again, after getting used to the cot in the  
base—which is another wearing change. And not much sleep at that. Plus, his physical…activities, with Laura.

Yup, he's tired.

"Stay awake," Laura says, feeling him begin to slump over. She elbows him in the side.

"Nngnn—" Julian starts awake, then rubs his face. "God, I need a real rest. I'm sick of taking little catnaps."

Laura tilts her head. "We should not have wasted time on…fornication."

"It wasn't wasted."

"You should have rested," Laura says. "You had not regenerated for approximately fifty-four hours. Two hours is hardly sufficient."

"You slept even less."

"My physiology is different." There is no arguing with Laura and her flawless logic. He's annoyed.

"I'd rather fuck than sleep," he says, his voice thick with sleep. "Heck, I'd rather fuck than do _anything_ else. You'll figure that out, in a bit."

"You will not be efficient, if we are attacked. You are liable to make mistakes if you are tired."

"Laura… drop it," he grumbles.

He expects argument; he expects her to tell him not to tell her what to do—like Sofia or any other girl would, because he's said it in a very aggravating tone.

Instead, she falls silent.

Julian turns his head to look at her, his forehead wrinkled. "You're really not going to argue?" he asks.

"You instructed me to cease the conversation," Laura says patiently. "I was unaware you desired to resume it."

"…" he grins to himself. "I _love_ you," he says.

Laura pauses. "…thank you?" she says, uncertain of the proper response.

"You just keep getting better," he says.

…

They are halfway on their trek when Sofia moves up beside him.

They are travelling in small groups for safety, using the powers of various mutants to stay in touch, such as Sofia (via wind) and Laura (by ear).

"Julian."

He starts slightly, not having expected to hear Sofia's voice anytime soon. She was supposed to be in the other group, with Beast and a few of the other survivors, some of which were unknown to him.

"Hey," he says, a little stiffly.

Sofia pauses.

"Are you quite done hurting me?" she asks.

Julian pauses. "I didn't—"

"Yes, you did. I thought your little tryst with her before would be enough. I didn't even say anything…I thought it would quell whatever curiosities you had, but that was a mistake, wasn't it?"

He pauses. "You knew?"

"Oh, I knew." Sofia gives him a slight smile. It is full of anger. "Almost the whole camp knows. You called out her name in your sleep, almost every night. And I could _smell_ her on you. I could  
see how you changed towards me, sometimes acting like you did not want me to touch you. Would not even look at me." Sofia is staring at him directly as she walks. "Like you will not look at me _now._"

"It was only once…it was a mistake…for what it's worth, I'm sorry I hurt you." Julian says. "I shouldn't have lied. I…it just happened. I wasn't thinking."

"It just 'happened'," Sofia says, her voice trembling. "You are not sorry. You continue to hurt me. I do not understand…Julian, why? What did I do wrong?" She pauses. "What will convince  
you to stop playing this game and come back?"

"Hey—it's not a _game,_" Julian protests. "You have nothing to do with why I chose to be with her…but you _know_ what you did wrong."

Sofia sniffles. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Yeah, you do!" Julian says, clenching his hands into fists. "You looked away when Laura was about to be killed! You could've stopped it! Sof—it doesn't matter _who_ was being targeted by that  
gun. What matters to me is you were willing to let someone die—one of _us_—and you did nothing, when you had the power. I can't be with an accomplice to murder."

Sofia pauses, literally halting in her tracks. "I am so insulted you would ever accuse me of such a thing, Julian," she says, her voice filled with rage.

"I'm not accusing you," Julian says. "I'm stating a hard, cold fact. I saw you do it…and there's no way you can make me think otherwise."

"You are a lunatic," Sofia says. "Even still…I love you…please. Just listen to reason…come back."

"I would…but I'm not hearing any reasoning here," he says coolly. "The second I saw that…Sof…that's exactly when I stopped loving you. We're done here."

"No—we're not!" Sofia cries, but he means it. He ducks into a building and slams the door in her face, knowing he can easily find his way back to the group. No one's travelling anywhere at a fast pace today.

He's not the only one who's tired.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10-  


* * *

**

"Dude, have you see Laura?" Julian asks Santo. His friend looks up at him with his pupiless eyes, and he suddenly realizes how tired and drawn he looks. Not that anyone  
else could tell—Santo's made of pure rock, with a thousand crags, and sandy-smooth areas, from being rebuilt over and over.

He suddenly feels bad. He hasn't been spending much time with Cess and Santo lately. He's been so self absorbed, he hasn't even bothered to have a proper conversation  
with either of the two, and he realizes that he's been a bad friend.

To Santo especially. Santo, who lives for his friends, would die for them—if he could. Who doesn't have many friends left.

"X is over there," Santo says dully, pointing.

"Thanks," Julian says. He grins. "Guess what."

"What?" Santo asks, his voice flat.

"I banged her."

"That's old news," Santo says, boredly.

"I mean X. I'm not with Sof anymore."

He sees the light of gossip spark in Santo's eyes. "WHAT?" he bursts, in his foghorn voice. People look over, curious.

"Keep it down, man. I don't want the whole camp to know…yet. Well, they can know…but…you know. I don't wanna rub it in." Julian says, wincing.

"Under _what_ circumstance in hell could you get X to agree to that, Keller?" Santo asks, incredulous. "Did you convince her that it was her mission or somethin'?"

"Nope." Julian crouches beside Santo. "It's a long story. I found out there was a whole lot more to her than I thought."

"Oh really?" Santo asks. "So what'd you think she was before?"

"I dunno." Julian pauses. "I guess I always thought of her as an animal. A mechanical animal, you know..."

"At least part-robot," Santo agrees. "So is it everything I predicted? She a cold fish?" He's referring to their teenaged discussions.

"Hardly." Julian hesitates. "First time, I was a little nervous…it was like I tapped into some unstoppable force. She had this look in her eye…"

"Heh," Santo says. He pauses.

"So…Sofia is single now, huh?"

"Fuck you, Santo."

"You'd like that."

"Totally. I don't know what'd hurt more, bottoming or topping for you."

"Bottoming, Keller. Definitely bottoming. Don 't think you'd recover."

"You sick freak," Julian says affectionately, getting to his feet. "Catch you later."

He heads towards Laura, who is sitting by an old lamppost with a shattered bulb inside its shade. She is eating from a tin of canned food, her eyes on the city horizon, her  
soot-smudged cheeks bulging slightly.

"Pears," Julian says, reading the label. "The hell'd you get pears?"

Laura turns her head slightly. "From the last raid."

"You could just about take command of this group for that can," Julian says, half-joking. "I don't think it'd even have to be full."

"Possibly." Laura thinks, then stabs her spork into the tin and offers him a slice of pear with a questioning look. He hesitates. He hasn't eaten pears in about five years; would it be  
better not to remind himself of good food?

Hunger wins.

"You should ingest more Vitamin C," Laura says, watching him eat as he kneels beside her. "You might get scurvy if you do not pay more attention to your diet."

"Or, you know, a Sapiens bastard might shoot me first," he says pleasantly. "It's a toss-up."

"The probability of either is almost equal," Laura says softly.

He leans on the lamp post. "Maybe we can grow our own food…if we can settle this group down long enough, in one spot. Can you imagine having _fresh_ foods?"

"Yes." Laura stares into the distance, down the cracked and destroyed street.

"I'd kill for a pizza," Julian says dreamily.

"That is not fresh food," Laura says. "That is empty carbohydrates. It will provide no nutrition whatsoever for your body. What energy it provides will promptly be turned into fat, which  
will collect around your—"

He takes her hand and presses it against his stomach. "Feel that? Hard as a rock. Harder than _Rockslide. _I could handle some pizza."

"…" Laura leaves her hand on his stomach, staring at her fingers against the faded fabric of his t-shirt. Her lips part slightly, and she looks uncertain again, perhaps at the realization that  
she is _touching_ him and he is neither repulsed nor hesitant, but the instigator.

He leans over, sensing this. "I'm sorry about…well…being a jerk for thirteen years," he says, then kisses her lightly.

Laura doesn't respond to this.

"Only took the end of the world for me catch on, huh?"

"Yes," Laura says.

He rubs her back lightly, then pats it. "Since you're so keen on me sleeping, let's get set up _now_ and not dick around and waste time."

Laura looks at him. "You are not planning to sleep," she says, arcing her eyebrows. "You are intending to—"

"Yeah."

"What if I do not want to participate?"

Julian stops. "Then I'd give my hand a work-out, wouldn't I?"

Laura studies him.

"I'm pretty sure you want in, though," he says, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Picking up several things here."

"Such as?" Laura asks.

"Your lips are pinker," he says, still playing with her hair. "Your pupils are totally bigger. What's the word? Dilated. And you're tilting your head…like you always do when you look at  
me. Checking me out. Beat _that_, X."

Laura pauses.

"You are releasing more oxytocin. Your androstenol production has increased by approximately twenty-five percent. Your pulse has risen from sixty-five beats per minute to  
seventy-three bpm to accommodate for your—"

"You're cheating," he accuses.

"I am not 'cheating'. The information is available to anyone."

"You mean, only yourself."

"I am the only one capable of processing it, yes," Laura agrees, and he realizes she is smiling slightly. He is surprised to find that she _does_ know how to flirt, but in her own  
way. A thought occurs to him—memories of similar conversations with Laura in the past, in which he had thought she was just being weird and obnoxious about her powers—  
when in reality she had been trying to gain his attention. She has been trying to impress him.

He thinks it's kind of cute. He twirls her hair around his finger, his hand, and then he's kissing her again, more fulfilling. He loses his balance and almost causes them to fall over;  
catching himself in time, he makes a noise of amusement, then pulls away.

"Mmm. Come on, I can't wait much longer."

Laura studies him. "You _can_ wait. Nothing negative will occur if you do not—"

"Yeah, but I don't want to," he says. "C'mon, missy—get up." He pulls her to her feet and they walk away, bickering about biology (Laura insisting he can survive entirely without  
sex; Julian pointing out that it wouldn't be good for his mental health, and Laura countering with some old psychology theory about promotion of 'mental alertness').

A bush behind them moves slightly, ever so slightly, in the breeze.

Julian takes his time deciding on a spot to sleep, wandering further and further away from the group. He finally picks an old clothing store display, which is carpeted, and has a  
few unlooted garments and mannequins all around, positioned on a small carpeted staircase . By the time they finally lay their blankets down, he feels like he has earned  
whatever is going to occur, and he begins to plan it out. He gets creative and incorporates the staircase.

**…**

He yawns and opens his eyes slowly to look at the gray sky, over which dawn is breaking. He has woken up alone; Laura is already out and about, presumably at the  
camp. He feels cheated, but he knows she starts her day early.

Sitting up slowly, he winces. His back hurts like crazy. He knows he can't complain, or Laura might pick up on this and decide that their activities are detrimental to his health  
or something. That's the last thing he needs; it's the only thing giving him the ability to cope at the moment.

**…**

Four hundred hours. Laura's eyes snap open and she inhales sharply. She is programmed to wake up at this time, no matter what has occurred. It is facility conditioning. She turns her head  
slightly. Beside her, Julian sleeps soundly. His fingers flex every so often, and a green thread of energy twirls in the air nearby. He is dreaming about something, but it's obviously pleasant,  
because he is smiling slightly.

Laura lowers her eyes, then sits up, moving his arm off of her waist. There are matters to attend to. She must patrol; she must make certain they have not been followed. She must complete the mission.

She picks up her clothes, pulls on her bra, underwear, pants. Laces up her too-big combat boots. She is tempted to walk barefoot, but knows her feet would pick up too much sharp  
rubbish—and the skin would heal over it. It would be unpleasant to pick apart later.

Stepping outside through the broken glass of the window, she finds that the air is curiously still. Laura tilts her head, looking down the street as she pulls on her t-shirt. She sniffs. She cannot  
smell anything, but she is certain someone is there, watching her. It's a gut instinct.

"Show yourself." Laura commands, making a fist and popping two claws. She will exterminate this threat.

Nothing shows itself. Laura searches the street but cannot find anything.

The feeling remains throughout the day; and finally at noon she comprehends who it is.

**…**

"Laura."

She looks up at her name. It's Sofia. She stiffens ever so slightly. Never, in thirteen years, did she ever dare show signs of dislike or mistrust for this woman—except for once, when she'd approached  
Julian about a possible betrayal—but now, she feels on edge. Perhaps because she now has something at stake, something fragile, that she is very uncertain of.

She feels like she must defend it, somehow, but she's not sure what's required of her to do so.

Sofia is smiling at her, but the smile does not reach her eyes. "How are you?"

"I am operating at one hundred percent efficiency," Laura says warily. Both a reply and a warning: do not attempt to attack me.

Sofia is not so obvious. "I am glad to hear that. But you know what?"

"What?" Laura asks.

"I am not so well," Sofia says. She folds her arms. "Someone has been dishonest with me. I have been, how do you say it? Stabbed in the back, by my own friend."

"You are not bleeding."

Sofia wrinkles her nose. "Metaphorically, Laura. I am referring to your betrayal of our friendship, with your actions."

"We are colleagues, not friends," Laura points out, always one for technical correctness. Sofia has _never_ treated her as a friend—and after thirteen years of humanity, and Cessily's  
company—she is aware of the definition of the term.

Sofia gives her a cold look. "The insult continues."

Silence. Laura reaches over and flips the lid open on her thermos.

"Laura, you stole from me," Sofia says.

"I have not taken anything from you."

"You stole my partner."

"I did not 'steal' Julian, he came to me of his own accord," Laura says calmly, taking a sip of her soup-like drink. There is a bouillon cube in the water, adding some substance. It is all Laura has  
managed to find for this morning's breakfast.

"Julian would _never _be interested in you, Laura," Sofia says, her face suddenly neutral again. "He has told me…he hates you. You cause him discomfort with your presence with the odd things  
you do. He said you are mechanical, like a robot. If he is feigning interest…it is only out of desire for your body. He'll soon come to his senses again, once he's satisfied his needs and used you  
like a machine." She pauses. "I would not put too much store in what he says. Julian can be…persuasive. He will tell you what you want to hear, in order to get what _he_ wants. I am telling you  
this as your friend, Laura. Despite what you think, I have always counted you a friend, and that is why I am so surprised and hurt by this exchange. But I know it will pass…and friendship is  
much too great a thing to ruin over a petty dispute."

"That is wise of you," Laura comments, watching the steam rise from her mug.

Sofia pauses for a moment.

"Think about what I have said," she says, then turns and walks towards Nori's little circle. Laura watches this for a moment, then she turns her head, and sees Julian heading  
towards her, limping and frowning.

"Laura? What did she want?" he asks.

"Nothing." Laura sips from the thermos, then notes that Julian is not holding anything, and that he has probably just woken up. She stands up and holds it out towards him with a concerned expression.

"No, no, I'll find something. My fault for sleeping in."

"Eat. You are too thin."

"No I'm not."

"I can count your ribs through your skin. They are clearly defined."

"Look, _everyone's _a little thin right now, if you haven't noticed," he says.

"I have taken note. Eat."

Julian hesitates, then decides one pretend-gulp will appease her, if he makes it look big (which he does). Surprisingly, Laura calls him out on his swallowing air, and forces him to take a few  
real ones. Apparently she can tell by the noise when he is faking it.

"Thanks," he says, kissing her cheek and handing the thermos back.

"Are you certain that it was enough?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You need to eat too. Keep up your strength…" he pauses. "Boinking you is about the only good thing I have going for me right now, so you're going to need all the energy you can get."

Laura gazes at him, and despite herself, words run through her mind.

_If he is feigning interest…it is only out of desire for your body. He'll soon come to his senses again, once he's satisfied his needs._

She considers it, then decides this is a matter that she should council with Cessily, who has provided such explanations to her for the past thirteen years. The girl is almost a substitute for  
her mother and creator, Dr. Sarah Kinney—but not quite. There is no maternal bond; the closest term that Laura knows of that describes their friendship is 'sisterhood'.

She'd looked it up in the dictionary after Cessily had told her—several times—that they were like sisters.

Julian strokes her cheek. "I can't wait till we reach the new base and get started on settling down. Just not _walking _all the damn time will do wonders."

"Yes," Laura agrees. "I am hopeful that the discussion regarding this safehouse's defense is true. I have heard that it was designed by Forge himself, in the event of an emergency…and  
utilized, for a time, by the Morlocks—after they were forced to move."

"That sounds fantastic," Julian says. The Morlocks have become legend amongst the survivors, reemerging during the latter part of the war—before the re-engineered airborne Legacy virus  
was unleashed—and proudly taking their place amongst Summers' Battalion. They had died with honor for the mutant community in the war waged between Sapiens and Superior—in which  
most of downtown New York had been destroyed.

Magneto's resurfacing and last stand had destroyed the rest of the East coast.

In retaliation, the Plague (as it had been named) was released.

This was the hardest blow yet for the mutants. It was engineered to target anyone with an X-gene, dormant or active. Millions had died, including those depowered on M-day. The 198 survivors  
had been further scrambled, until only the five that Julian had known of remained; all immune to the plague, the last-minute recipients of Dr. McCoy's vaccine.

Thankfully he had reached a handful of others, including himself, through a time-jump assisted by Surge and Josh (accompanied by X-force).

"Yes," Laura says again. She lids her canteen. "It will also be favorable to have proper sleeping quarters, and a steadier diet, for the refugees. Many are showing signs of exhaustion, and will not  
be able to walk much further. It is not the activity that is causing the harm, but the depravation of vital needs."

"Mmm." Julian looks tired for a moment. "Would be awesome to get a bit more privacy, too. Like last night…that was great."

"You dislodged a bone fragment in your lower vertebrae. That was not wise."

"My back is fine."

"No, it is not."

"I don't care."

"You should. If we are engaged in combat—"

"My powers don't depend on whether my back hurts or not," Julian says. "Besides, I'm used to the pain. I can handle it. It's a small price to pay for what I got in return." He smiles at her, his eyes squinting.

"You will need to secure a better bedding material once we have reached the base," Laura says. "Something firm and moldable. You cannot keep reinjuring the site…it will impact your health,  
if you waste nutrients on rebuilding bone."

"I figured you'd take care of that for us," he says.

Laura pauses.

"'Us'?"

Julian pauses, suddenly realizing he hasn't asked her, he's only assumed. "Uh, yeah…I thought, well I pretty much got the vibe that you were on board with everything, right?"

Laura looks hesitant. "I do not know. This is…sudden."

"What's so sudden about it?" Julian asks, a little frustrated because she is making him feel stupid for not considering a detail such as her consent. "It's not like we haven't lived in the same _room_ for thirteen years."

"That is different."

"How?"

"We did not share bedding. I have morning routines. I have never shared a place of sleep with another for more than two consecutive nights."

"It'd be more efficient," Julian points out, knowing exactly the kind of logic that Laura finds appealing.

She pauses. "Yes, but—"

"I can't believe we're having this discussion," he says, slightly amused. "You're telling me, after hounding after me for more than a decade, that you need some space—and that you think we're moving too fast?"

"No." Laura pauses. "I do not want to disturb you with my habits."

"They don't disturb me," Julian says softly, fingering a lock of her hair. "I'm used to them. The only thing I'm not used to is the fun stuff…and that's a plus."

Laura hesitates. "I…dream, at times. The dreams are unpleasant, and I am afraid of damaging you."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"I do not want to put you in a situation of unnecessary risk."

"It's necessary, Laura," he says, his voice suddenly urgent.

She pauses. Thinks. Weighs consequences. "Okay."

"Really?" he asks.

"Yes." Laura looks decided. "You must be prepared to defend yourself from me, if I were to unconsciously attack you."

"I will." He pulls her close and presses his face against her neck. "Love you."

It feels good to say it. Right. Like he's releasing something that has built up inside him.

Laura hesitates.

"I love you too," she says.

He grins against her skin, and she feels his heart beating quicker, by three beats per minute. "You said 'thanks' last time."

"Yes." Laura pauses. "I was uncertain of an appropriate response. I have asked Cessily to explain such matters to me, and now I have a better understanding."

It suddenly occurs to Julian that this is because no one has ever _loved_ Laura, ever, except, perhaps, her mother. All of them, including himself—especially himself—had pushed her away, as if she was  
unworthy of even the love he gave to his friends.

He says nothing as a response but holds her slightly tighter, an extra squeeze.

"Walk with me today," he says instead.

"Nori requires me to—"

"Fuck Nori. I want to talk to you more."

"About?"

"Everything," he says. "I've known you for a long time…and I know you…but I don't _know_ you…you know?" He feels stupid.

"We have shared some intimate details," Laura says, surprisingly understanding what he has just said, even though it was almost unintelligible even to himself.

"Yeah—but that's different. I want to find out what your favorite color is…and what you liked to eat…stupid shit like that, you know?"

Laura pauses.

"It would keep me busy," he points out. Busy so he won't think about losing the Messiah, he means. He has kept himself Busy in the past few days, and so far, it has been working.

He just needs to keep it up.

And he really _does_ want to know more. Laura's interesting, now that he's not putting walls between them. He's always respected her logic, her opinions—when given—but he didn't care for  
her personality, when he had only assumed she didn't have one. He'd thought her completely inhuman, but now he knows otherwise; this is a solid, constant knowledge. There is the fact that  
she is more like him in her heart than he had believed before: she would die for her friends, and for him, if she had to—and if she could.

"Okay." Laura agrees.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Sorry for wait on publishing chapters, I had a period filled with finals, moving, and flying to Iowa (where I am currently, with my fiance) + the holidays. Will still be a bit spacey with updates but I haven't forgotten :-)

* * *

**11. Chapter 11-  


* * *

**

"Favorite song?"

Laura pauses. "I did not listen to much music…except for what Cessily exposed me to, when she had a device for entertainment—an iPod."

"And?"

"I do not like music. It is disruptive and distracting."

"Oh, c'mon. I'm sure there's one or two you liked."

"No."

"You're weird." Julian gives her an odd look. "I guess it's your ears, huh?"

"Yes."

"What about TV?" He sees her shake her head. "Books?"

"I have read many instructional books. I have read literature on anatomy, fighting styles, strategy, and textbooks such as Chemistry, Physics, Calculus, and Microbiology. Those are but a few. _The Art of War  
_is an excellent strategical guide, and was imparted to me at an early age."

"I meant…like fun reading, Laura."

"Fun reading?"

"Something that isn't related to school or…assassination."

"Oh." Laura pauses. Julian waits for her to say no, she hasn't read anything of that nature.

"Pinocchio," Laura says softly.

"What? Really?" Julian's brow wrinkles. "Isn't that like a kid's picture book?"

"Yes. My mother read it to me."

"Oh."

They are walking, trailing behind three other mutants, all acquaintances from Nori's survivors. Little more than names have been exchanged.

Julian realized, after a while, that he was holding Laura's hand. It feels soft yet muscular in his. He has not drawn her attention to it, thinking that she will probably try to pull away.

"What kind of food do you like?"

"Nutrients," Laura says. "I am not concerned with the form."

"There's got to be some tastes you like better than others."

"Yes. I like how you taste."

Julian raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes."

"What do I taste like?" he asks. He's never heard anyone say this before. In fact, Sofia used to hint that she wished he would stop smoking—because of the taste.

"Salivary amylase, and tobacco. It is a sweet yet slightly salty taste. You taste best approximately two hours after smoke inhalation."

"Huh."

Laura pauses. "The habit is detrimental to your health."

"I'm sure."

"But you do not intend to stop."

"Oh, I will."

Laura pauses.

"When?"

"I'll know when." He studies the road ahead. "When were you born?"

"I am not certain."

Julian stops. "How old are you?"

"Approximately twenty-eight years of age."

He visibly relaxes. "I'm twenty nine. What's your favorite season?"

This continues for the rest of the day, Julian asking random questions, pretty much anything that occurs to him, and Laura answering in a steady, monotonous voice. She does not have answers to many  
of his questions. This frustrates him, because he can see that Laura _is_ a person, but he can't get her _out. _It's like he is a seagull, and he is trying to open a clam that is squeezing its shell tight.

She does, however, surprise him occasionally with a different answer.

**…**

They are searching for the safehouse now, sifting through rubble as they look for the entrance. All they know about its location is that it is near the U.N. building, and that it is underground. They have passed  
the still-smoking crater where the enormous building once stood, before the war.

In the final days, Magneto had used it as his base. It had been bombed quite thoroughly until nothing but the random steel rod still stood.

Now the building itself is nothing but ashes. Julian swallows, hard—he might be walking over the graves of some of his friends right now. They died here.

He tries not to choke up, tries to fight the despairing feeling. _They died for nothing. _There is no Messiah that is going to bring them all back…that will correct the wrong that had been done to his kind. There won't  
even be revenge on the humans, the very humans that still live decent lives within the enormous walls of their cities.

He wants to kill them all.

"Julian, focus," Laura says sternly.

"I am."

"You are trembling, and perspiring. You are allowing yourself to think of what has transpired. It is good to be respectful…but do not allow that to stand in the way of your survival."

"I'm fine, okay?"

Laura gives him a knowing look.

"Yeah, alright, I'm not." He looks at the ground, willing himself self control. He realizes that his eyes are glowing. "But I will be."

**…**

"Destroyed."

Nori says the words, empty, despairing. They are standing in the remains of once might have been a base, of sorts; but it has been trashed beyond repair, caving in, its electronics mangled.

Julian is standing behind her and staring with dismay. He feels his hopes falling, literally, like they are being oppressed by gravity.

"Can anything be salvaged?" Cessily asks.

"No. Oh, what's the use…" Nori looks down. "We're doomed, aren't we? Unless we find that kid…and she can fix everything."

Julian now trades looks with Laura, unwillingly. It's like an instinct, to exchange looks after the Messiah is mentioned. The non-existent Messiah.

"We must move on," Laura says, her tone serious. "We cannot afford to stay in one area for more than an evening. We have already taken far too many risks. We should move inland, towards—"

"No, we're staying in the area," Nori says, over Laura's voice. "The second we give _that_ up…we're toast. There's nothing left for us. Not only would it get us killed…but morale would fall to suicide."

She's said it out loud.

"Maybe there's something better out there?" Julian suggests tentatively. "Nothing says the Messiah is going to be _here_ at all times. We could—"

"No."

Nori's voice is firm. "We're moving. But not far."

**…**

Julian lies on his back, staring up at the sky. The heavy brown clouds (black at night) have temporarily parted and allow him to see the star-filled sky. They look sad, cold, and distant—kind of how he feels,  
although he hasn't said anything.

He's lying on a slab of concrete, a little bit away from the others, and Laura is lying beside him, her eyes trained on the stars like she is glaring them down for information. She hasn't blinked in half an hour.

It's cold, even though it should be summer. The bombs did something funny to the atmosphere. They can see their breaths, rising in puffs that dissipate into nothingness.

"Laura," he whispers.

She doesn't move, other than for parting her lips. "Yes?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I am thinking that we are in unnecessary danger," Laura says, her voice low. "We should not remain in the locale. The situation might be better…elsewhere."

Julian sighs. "Yeah. But we don't know what's out there. The world's not too happy with us, as a whole. Besides…Nori's right. If we leave, people are going to _know_ something's up."

Laura is silent for a few moments.

"These people waste too much time on trying to repair the _past,_" Laura says, her tone something akin to anger. "The future is what is important. The _immediate _future. It dictates who will survive."

"True." Julian watches the cloud of his breath disappear.

A weird thought occurs to him, perhaps stirred by the fact that he's been thinking of _legends _lately. He takes a breath to speak, then dismisses the idea. It's too farfetched, too stupid.

"Yes?" Laura murmurs, having heard his breath.

"Nothing."

"You intended to speak."

"Yeah. I was going to ask if you ever heard of the Savage Land…but I'm sure—"

"Yes." Laura turns to look at him now, and her eyes are doing that weird reflective thing in the dim light of the evening. "That is precisely what I was referring to. We should—"

"Woah, woah." Julian sits up. "I was just asking. I didn't mean—I mean, it's at least ninety percent fiction…and it's way out in the Atlantic Ocean somewhere."

"The Antarctic, actually."

"Even more impossible, Laura. How the hell would thirty-two of us manage to get there? Only a few of us can fly…and I can only carry about five people, including myself. Besides…just no."

Laura gives him a look.

"Nori's in charge. It's good. She's a better leader than I ever was."

Laura continues to watch him. He feels uncomfortable, so he turns back to watching the sky. She knows it bothers him, it hurts him to be cast aside. It reminds him of thirteen years  
ago, when Frost chose Nori to lead, over him.

**…**

"Uh?" Julian raises his head, and realizes it's still night. Laura's curled against his side, the crown of her head tucked under his chin. He's been woken by something; a shadow passing, perhaps, darker  
than the overhead dark, but he can't see anything. He's surprised he's woken before the girl beside him has.

"What is it?" Laura is awake now, and moving in his arms. She feels like a cat, all muscle and well-oiled joints.

She tenses.

"Sofia."

"Oh," Julian says. "That's…"

Laura sits up. "She approached me, before. Cessily told me that I should inform you, although it seems unimportant."

"What'd she say?"

"She inferred that you are only interested in sexual favors."

A long pause.

"_Sofia_ said that?" Julian asks. "That seems completely…out of character for her."

"Yes," Laura says, to both question and comment.

"Didn't know she could get so jealous." He pauses again. "You know it's not true, right? What she said? I wouldn't…I mean, I kind of did, before, but…"

Laura watches him.

"I'm sorry?" he asks.

"Yes." Laura turns away.

"That was before—hey, look at me." He catches her chin. "I'm not doing that anymore, okay? I like you now." He says the last part lamely.

"What changed?" Laura asks, a question that has been on her mind. Simmering.

"I think…it was always like this, and I just didn't see it…if it makes sense," he answers slowly. "The only thing that changed was how I saw things."

"Saw what things?"

Julian thinks carefully of how to word it. "I had some misconceptions about you," he admits.

"Such as?"

"Laura…I don't want to get into it. I was wrong."

"Such as?" Laura is firm. She is going to find out, one way or another.

"You scared me," he admits. "I didn't feel safe with you. You…I'm sure you can tell that you're different."

"Yes." Laura watches him. "Go on."

"That's it."

"Sofia said that you think I am mechanical."

"…" Julian is startled into showing the truth on his face. He doesn't really think that _now, _as he is starting to see signs of Laura's personality beneath her reserve, but that was the _exact_ word he'd used to  
describe her for thirteen years, and to see her say it is not something he was expecting.

Laura sees this. Her face closes, somehow, without her making an expression.

"No, look—that was before—"

She is getting to her feet, calmly.

"Hey, where are you going?" Julian asks, scrambling after her. "Please let me explain…Sofia said that to mix us up, but it's not what I think _now._ Like I said, I misjudged you."

"And that makes it acceptable?" Laura asks, without turning. Her voice is strained.

"I didn't say that. I said I made a mistake…and I'm sorry." He reaches out and touches her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Laura."

"Okay."

"No, you're not okay with it. What can I do to make it better?"

Laura stops.

"I will let you know," she says, then walks away, into the night, her posture making it clear that she is not to be followed. He knows that it will do him no good; Laura is intent on being alone, and he feels  
that he owes it to her, to respect her space.

After not respecting her at all for a very long time.

Julian shifts uneasily, then decides to let her alone. She'll come around when the time is right, and meanwhile, there's survival matters at stake.

Now's not the time to be acting like teenagers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12- **

* * *

"I admire your courage, miss," the Commander says, staring the slight woman down through his spectacles. "Thank you for getting back to me…even though it's been years since we spoke last."

She rubs her arm. "I do not know that this is _courage._ But it is what is _right._"

"Don't worry." The Commander smiles. "You see…I'm not like most. I know you're not animals…you're not monsters. I know you're people, a minority. But I know you're dangerous—you're terrorists, and you'll destroy us all if  
we don't fight back. It's war, nothing personal." He holds out a dish to her—wrapped candies. Her eyes widen, then she takes one.

"It's been years since you've had one, hasn't it?" he comments.

"Yes."

Silence while she eats the candy.

"Here's how it works. You lead them into our hands…and we'll do the rest. You can even fight us. When you are captured, I will guarantee your freedom, in our cities. I'll see to it that you receive the cure…and that no one ever  
finds out about your little genetic misfortune."

The woman stares. "Really?"

"Yes," the Commander says, smiling. He has a boyish smile. "All you have to do is betray your friends."

**…**

"This is dumb," Santo says. "Why are we wasting so much time with this shit? Just go back and find the kid already! Then we can get back to _living, _huh?"

They are sitting around a small campfire in a dilapidated building that used to house a pharmacy. There are four faces illuminated by the fire's light—Julian's, Cessily's, Santo's, and Laura's. Julian catches himself thinking about how  
lucky he is to have them left, and realizes that maybe he's adjusting, somewhat, to this idea of not having some godlike being that will _fix_ everything with a snap of its fingers. Sure—they're not in a good spot right now; the situation  
is dire, and their backs are against the wall—but he finds he agrees with Laura. They could make it better. They just haven't tried.

It's been a week since he found out that there is no messiah…and he hasn't killed himself yet, or even thought about it.

"Santo," Cessily admonishes. "They'll find her in due time. The world is a big place…do you have _any_ idea of how hard it is for them to calculate space _and_ time?"

"I hate calculations _period,_" Santo says.

Laura is silent. She won't look at Julian, and he can feel this—the absence of her usual gaze, which has lingered on his figure for thirteen years. He realizes, with a start, just how attuned to her he's become—from glances to  
shared strategies, to discussing other members of the team—without ever realizing it. He may have been sleeping with Sofia, but Laura was really his partner all the long.

It's been a day since their conversation. And the subsequent rift. He slept alone last night, and was very uncomfortable.

He promises himself he'll fix it, soon. Later tonight, even. Once they know where they're heading, where they will be sleeping, he'll talk to her, and plead. He's never had to grovel for anything, but he realizes this is more  
important than his pride. After all, it was him that made the mistake.

"…Earth to Julian?" Santo is asking.

"Huh?" He snaps back. Both his friends are staring at him. Laura is looking at the fire.

"I said, what's the first thing you're gonna do when things go back?"

"He asked you like five times," Cessily says, sounding annoyed. "I told him to shut up. Is something wrong though?"

"Never seen you blank out like that, man," Santo says. "Was like the clone or somethin'. Whoops—er—I forgot you were all friendly with her now."

Laura continues to stare into the fire.

"Oh my _god,_" Cessily says, exasperated. "Santo, you're so dumb sometimes, it hurts to sit next to you. That was _so_ insensitive!"

"_What?_" Santo asks, as if he's genuinely missed how his comment could be offensive. Julian closes his eyes and hugs his knees tighter. Just more shit for him to straighten out. _Keep it coming, _he thinks.

"Yeah," Julian says, trying to break the silence, which has become awkward. "So…I don't think it's a good idea for us to stay here. We're sitting ducks." He pauses. "Maybe it's time we start learning how to fend for ourselves, huh?"

"What are you saying?" Santo demands.

"Just…maybe we could fix things _ourselves,_" Julian says apprehensively. "Do we _have_ to stay in the middle of the war? We could head away…seek out safety. It wouldn't be what we had, but—"

"Dude, no." Santo's voice is suddenly serious. "I'd _die_ before settling for _this. _I want my friends back. I want the school back—and my uncle—and my life. I don't intend to stay in hiding anymore."

"Me too," Cessily says. "I _hate_ this. The only thing that keeps me going is thinking that it's temporary. Julian…_twelve_ of my close friends were killed in that bus…and my parents…and look at us. We're like cockroaches, sifting from  
place to place, looking for hiding spots. And I'm stuck…you guys might _die_ and leave me all alone. Well, with rockbrain here for company."

"So…what? We find the baby…and then what? Have you thought that out? You guys think that a _baby_ will know what to do?" Julian asks.

Disbelieving stares. Directed at him.

"Dude…from what I've heard, she's like a god or something. Of _course_ she'll know what to do," Santo says.

"They say she cured Rogue of Strain 88 with only a _touch._" Cessily says.

"What the fuck is Strain 88?" Santo asks.

"You guys should listen to yourselves objectively," Julian says. "You sound like you're religious, and this baby is your _god._"

"Maybe she is," Santo says. "Maybe she is."

Cessily doesn't argue.

Silence for a while.

"Yeah," Julian says again, lamely. What else _can_ he say? Does he have to keep lying to his friends, as Laura has done for over a decade?

**…**

"I do not know if I could," she says, after taking a deep breath. "Thirteen years…these people are my brothers, my sisters, my…"

"I know. It will be hard. But, as you said, it will be the right thing. Think of it…you'll never have to hide again…you'll sleep in a real bed, eat real food. Have the life you long for. Don't lie—you've thought about this, many times…since my offer."

"Yes," she admits.

"Why did you not come sooner?" the Commander asks.

She pauses. Lowers her gaze.

"Someone else had to betray me first."

**…**

"Everyone listen up," Nori says. "We're not leaving this area. We'll die before we let those bastards take the little hope we have left."

She is standing beside Josh and Sofia, addressing her people. The people that are staking their lives on her judgment.

Faint cheers. General agreement with this decision.

"We keep doing what we've _been_ doing. Rotate camp, every night. Every second day we send out a team to look for Cable and the baby. We'll find her, and then…if everything we've heard is true…we won't be in this mess anymore."

More cheers.

Julian feels Laura's eyes on him again, but for a different reason than her usual predatory gaze. She is accusing him, prompting him. _You know what's right. _

He holds his head high and tries to ignore it. _He can't. _It would kill them, kill all of them, to find out their god is false.

A new pair of eyes are on him, and he searches through the small gathering for them. _There._ Logan is watching him. Calculating. How much does he know? How much has Laura told him? Obviously  
some—most of it—since he saw the maneuver she pulled, staying with him in the future to talk.

Julian wonders what confrontation occurred afterward. There had been many moments in which Laura had not been within eyesight.

"Tonight, we head to the docks, along the Quay. Haven't been there for a while and maybe we can get some food while we're at it!"

**…**

They are on the move again, with bundles strapped to their backs. They are climbing mountains of rubble slowly, trying to head towards the docks. Maybe there will be some fish still alive there, whatever wasn't killed in the toxic runoffs.

Caution must be practiced. They are still in the warzone. They cannot travel together in large groups; they might be spotted, and bombed. The air is unusually still and free of aeroplanes and Nimrods. There still, however, could easily be stealth bombers.

"Where is everyone?" Julian asks Nori. "Should've seen at least three Nimrods by now."

"Maybe we're just getting a break," Nori replies cheerfully. "About damn time."

"I do not like this," Laura says, her voice quiet. "It feels wrong."

"Since when do we get breaks?" Julian asks, his eyebrows raised.

"Lighten up, guys! It doesn't have to _mean_ something," Nori says.

Laura and Julian exchange uneasy glances.

"I appreciate the input, Keller, but I know what I'm doing. I know what _we're _doing." Nori says, picking her way around a trashed car. "Go back to your groups," she adds.

They fall back, but as they turn to separate, it is clear that each has something to say. Both hesitate, then Julian says "You go first."

"I do not like this," Laura says again. "We should go back. I strongly advise against following Surge's directions. I cannot say how I know, but something adverse will happen if we continue in this direction."

Julian pauses. "You mean…you have a gut feeling?"

Laura pauses too. "Yes."

"Damn." Julian looks at the ground. "I can't do anything. But…maybe we'll be okay. We've managed before…I mean, we're handled the worse they've thrown at us…and after thirteen years, I don't think they'll  
bother with some new super weaponry. We've just been getting the old run-down Nimrods lately."

"True," Laura says. "Increased funding towards a minor threat is irrational. Still…"

They are silent for a moment. She turns to go, but Julian reaches out and puts his hand on her shoulder. "Wait."

Laura hesitates.

"I don't like _this. _You and me not talking."

"We are talking. We just exchanged words."

"Yeah, but it's still in the background. I know that this is my fault. I should've made an effort to get to know you a long time ago. I mean…at the beginning. Not only was it rude of me, but stupid."

"'Stupid'?" Laura parrots.

"Well…you were part of the people I was responsible for, back when you guys all decided I should be in charge. You were one of the last few mutants alive that I knew, and I didn't even make an effort to learn your last  
name. I don't even remember asking your _first…_all I knew about you was what Logan told us, when he introduced you. And what I saw at the place that made you."

Laura is silent.

"So you can see that I was ignorant," he says, getting to his point. "What I did…it was rude and stupid, even from a survival point of view…now I want to get over it. I'm not asking you to forgive me  
entirely…but maybe you could help me fix it?"

Silence. Laura is thinking.

"What Sofia told me…is this how you perceive me now?" she asks.

"No!" Julian rushes to respond. "I told you, I was wrong."

"How do you perceive me now, then?" Laura asks warily.

He falls silent, struggling to form an answer. "…cute?" he asks, about half a minute later, with wide eyes.

Laura smiles slightly, something he has not seen much of. It fits her face well.

"You are telling the truth," she states. He suddenly remembers that she can detect lies by scent, and is relieved he was honest. That could have made this worse, if he had said untrue things about her.

"Yeah."

Laura considers. "Okay."

"What, really?" he asks. He wasn't sure she was going to overlook his behavior.

"Yes."

"Thanks," he says, although it really doesn't seem sufficient. He pauses, then draws her towards him and hugs her for a while, stroking her back and thinking again that he is lucky to have what he does have.

"You are welcome," Laura answers. "We should not stay so long in one place. We must keep up."

"Sure." He releases her, but slides his hand down to hers and takes it again.

"Walk with me?" he asks.

Laura nods slightly, and they resume.

**…**

"I will do it," Sofia says.

The Commander extends his hand to her, and they shake.

Then soldiers come to escort her away. To the secret entrance where she is to be released.

She will draw them in, like animals to a trap.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13-**

* * *

Now:

They were right, they were so right. Nori can see that now, quite clearly: the mutants, the endangered species, her people, don't stand a chance. There aren't just lights in the sky—the sky is literally on _fire. _

"Retreat!" she shouts, her words drowned out by a missile's whine.

"God damn!" Julian is yelling, trying to fend it off. It's like watching an elephant try to crush a peanut—and, miraculously, fail. His green bubble expands, and the missile of whatever it was is repelled back into the atmosphere.

Probably some kind of mustard gas.

"We cannot hold them off," Laura says, her eyes distant. Her gaze is on the army of Nimrods that are heading towards them. A sea.

They were wrong about the funding on the weapons problem, though, Julian thinks. Quite wrong. It's apparent now that the humans have spent on nothing _but_ developing weapons to eliminate the last traces of mutants.

"Well…we go down fighting, right?" he answers, holding the shield up. He can't afford to leave them unprotected now. "Hey, how much does the anti-matter ray hurt anyway, Laura?"

She closes her eyes. "It is quite severely painful." She would know, having survived several partial shots (and one full-frontal dosage, a long time ago, which nearly killed her). "The sensation is somewhat akin to being lit on fire,  
except internal. Or perhaps many thousands of bee stings would be more accurate."

"Damn," he says wistfully. "There goes my dreams of a peaceful death."

Nori looks pale. "The talk isn't _helping, _Keller. Try to—"

"I really don't think we're walking away from this," Julian says through gritted teeth. "I mean…we _did_ try to convince you that this was the wrong route to choose, but you were having none of it."

Nori grimaces. "It wasn't just me. Josh thought it would be a good idea—and Sofia—"

Laura tilts her head. "Where is Sofia?"

Silence.

"God _damn_ her," Julian says furiously.

**…**

Then:

Camp has been set up amongst the four travelers, in an empty restaurant. There's wood from the chairs and tables to be burnt, and the water's still running, albeit cold. Julian washes himself for the first time in about three days, having  
survived with 'Mexican showers'. Fortunately everyone has become immune to body odors; there is no alternative.

He uses the kitchen sink to do so.

"I found this," Laura offers, moving beside him. He turns; she has a bottle of dish washing soap. The label is dirty, but when he takes it, the bottle is full—and the soap is clean when he squirts some on himself.

"Awesome. I'm going to smell…lemon-fresh," he says, reading the label.

Laura smiles slightly. He leans over and pecks her on the cheek, then gets back to business. She watches, and later helps, then he returns the favor; the others are in the front dining area, allowing them privacy to use the 'shower'.

"Wish there were towels," Julian says. "I mean, _real_ towels. These little hand towels suck ass."

Laura does up her boots silently.

They return to the campfire and engage in light conversation with the two other members of their party. One is a girl, with three ears on each side of her head (otherwise normal); the other is a boy, with multicolor skin.

That night, they sleep uneasily, both tossing and turning. Restless. When he falls asleep, he dreams, and they are violent and bloody. He sees his friends die again, sees anti-matter taking them apart. But the metal cat is no longer a part of his dreams,  
because it is sleeping beside him, in silent companionship.

He awakes, in the middle of the short four hours of sleep he will get, to a figure standing above him. Not Laura—she's still there, awake, looking up too.

"So this is how it will be."

Sofia. He blinks. Yes, it is her. He can vaguely see her in the dim light coming through the windows. His gaze wanders over to their night watch; their two companions are sleeping, sitting up.

"This isn't creepy _at all,_" he says.

"No." Sofia sounds calm. "You are certain that you wish to do this?"

"…" Julian sits up. "What do you _want?_ I told you, it's over…and the further this goes, the more I realize what a good decision it was. Just quit while you're ahead."

Sofia folds her arms. "Yes. Quit." She pauses. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely," Julian says firmly.

"Alright." Sofia turns away. "Remember…you had a choice. We _all_ had a choice…and we kept making the wrong ones."

He and Laura sit in silence for a few minutes, after the door closes behind the woman.

"What the hell was that?" he asks finally.

Laura gives him that _look_ she's developed over the years.

"She is going to betray us."

"No way," Julian says. "She's losing touch a bit…but no way. You don't _know _her like I do. Sure, what she did—I saw her do a few things that I didn't agree with…but to kill _everyone?_ No way."

"Do you still love her?" Laura asks, surprising him.

He pauses. "I love what I remember. Don't love what she is now, no. She changed, a lot…for the worse. She's not someone who handles pressure well."

Laura's expression is hard to read. She doesn't answer.

"God…I'm too tired for this shit," Julian grumbles. "And _they_ just suck at guard-duty. Let's bust them and take over."

Laura nods.

**…**

Now:

Laura's giving him _that look, _the 'I-told-you-so' look. She doesn't _say_ anything (something she's learned to do, not tell everyone how she forewarned them) but her look is enough to make him feel like the world's biggest dumbass.

"Are you saying—" Nori begins to ask.

"Yes," Laura says.

"How—"

"Because she basically told us last night," Julian says. "Not outright. But…she was rambling on about choices, and us making the wrong ones. She's off her nut, I think…she finally snapped."

"Don't think you helped matters, Keller," Nori says.

"Hey, you have _no idea _what went on," Julian says. "So don't start."

"Excuse me—" Cessily butts in. "Apocalypse, remember?"

"Oh. Right." He flushes.

"I'm open to ideas here, guys," Nori says.

"I count as many as fifty Nimrods," Laura says, in her calm, objective voice. "Ten predators. And there are stealth bombers overhead. We are surrounded."

"It's going to have to be a pretty fantastic idea," Julian says.

Silence, except for the sounds of machinery approaching.

One Nimrod emerges from the rest, its robotic face cold and lonely.

**[Target acquired: Mutants. Designation: Wanted 1ABX. Recommendation: Surrender. Proceed with holographic display…] **

A small camera-like device emerged from the Nimrod's hand, and a ray of light wisped out of it, into mid-air. It formed the body and facial features of the Sapiens League Commander, a grey-haired man with a boyish, smiling face.

Innocent of the mutant blood he's shed.

"Hello," he says. "This is a pre-recorded message. I am extending the one-time offer of surrender towards your people. You are to lay down, on the ground, with your hands behind your head; my Nimrods will apply dampening devices, and you  
will be processed in our Penitentiary. This is my final offer." He pauses, smiles. "If I were you…I would take it. This is a painful, undignified way to die."

Electricity crackles around Nori's fists.

"And—before you ask, Ms. Mantega—" the Commander pauses.

Sofia has paled, in the background.

"—I lied, about _everything. _There's no sanctuary for you here, or for any of your people. You'll never sleep safely. You'll never breathe in peace. You'll never have a happy thought again. I will crush you like insects."

**[ YOU HAVE THREE MINUTES.] **The Nimrod adds.

Nori looks at her friends, her eyes glowing blue with anger, pure anger. "There's no question, is there?" she asks.

"Not for me," Julian agrees. He pauses. "Guys…it's been a pleasure. Really. I couldn't have found better people to die with."

"Same, Keller," Nori says, reaching up and beginning to remove her bracers.

She isn't going to need them for this.

"Better say your goodbyes, people," she adds. "We might not walk away from this one. Or even crawl."

A flurry of motion, voices, as people turn to each other and shake hands, embrace, nod at each other (on Logan's part).

"Great knowin' ya, Hank," he says to Dr. McCoy, who replies in a solemn voice.

"Laura…" Julian reaches out towards her and buries his face in her neck. "I'm sorry I was too late. I wasted a lot of time, didn't I?"

"Yes," Laura says. He pulls away and kisses her softly, then a little more desperately, realizing they're going to die and he doesn't know what's coming next. Is she going to be there?

Laura…is smiling?

"Julian…" her voice is low. "He is bluffing."

"What?" he asks.

"There are only _three_ Nimrods in his attack squad. The rest are regular Sentinels in partial Nimrod cases. He does not have a full army."

"…what?" Julian looks at the line of identical pink robots. "You're kidding."

"No. I can hear the different energy frequencies. There are only three that are on the same energy level of a Nimrod unit. The rest are at a much lower level."

"Nori—come here!" Julian shouts.

They explain this to Nori, who starts to grin, too. "We can do this, then," she says.

"Yes. We will need to use the actual units to our advantage." Quickly Laura imparts her strategy, her eyes shifting to the units every now and then.

"Keller, you got all that?" Nori asks.

**[00:45]**

"Yeah. I'm on it."

"I can take care of getting them to hit each other. I'm the fastest. Laura…you take care of the rest of them. You're one of the only ones amongst us who can keep going, no matter what."

"Yes," Laura says.

**[00:30]**

"Whatever we do, we're probably going to have to fight one Nimrod. How you want to go about it?" Nori.

"I will open it…as we did once…and you will channel directly into it." Laura. "It is the only attack that the machine is vulnerable to, in my knowledge."

"But there's no time device, and we don't have an antimatter ray," Julian says. "Not this time."

**[00:15]**

"But there _is_ a communication device," Laura points out. "For the sake of compactness, the Nimrods receive many of their strategies from a satellite link. If the device is removed, the robot may cease to function, at least to its full capacity."

**[00:09] **

"Sounds like a plan." Nori.

**[00:07] **

"Works for me." Julian.

**[00:05] **

**[00:04]**

**[00:03]**

**[00:02]**

**[00:01]**

**[00:00]**

**[SURRENDER. LOWER SELF TO THE GROUND, HANDS BEHIND HEADS. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ATTACK. YOU WILL BE ARRESTED SHORTLY AND]**

The robot continues talking, but no one hears it. "WE'RE NOT GOING TO _**LIEDOWNANDDIE!**_" Nori screams, then disappears, her form lagging behind her as she turns into a blur of movement.

For a moment the Nimrods do not respond; then it begins.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14-  
**

* * *

Julian is exhausted, shaking, sweating, and grappling with the Nimrod. His whole head is aching like a muscle that has held up a building for hours. He thinks he might split down the middle, but he can't stop. Not now, not ever.

All that stands between him and an excruciatingly painful death—to anti-matter—is a thin green shield of thought.

Flashes of metal. Laura in the background, all four limbs flying, followed by showers of nuts and bolts and scrapped metal. Huge explosions, sparks of electricity. Thundering booms as the machines hit the ground.

A blur sweeps past him, and he pants in relief as Nori pummels the Nimrod with a distracting burst of static, taking the pressure temporarily off of him as it swerves to chase her. He stumbles backwards, reaches up to wipe his forehead.

He sees spots. That can't be good. At least one Nimrod has been neutralized, according to plan. That means just two more—

"_**NO!**_" Laura shouts from behind him. He turns, to see the other Nimrod. He knows it is a real one because it bears the mark he left on its forehead, initially, for distinguishing purposes.

An X.

Which means, it has adjusted to his powers.

He raises a shield and tries to side-step just as the air ripples, the atoms being sucked into the anti-matter stream and disintegrated. His hair moves, and he turns his head, hot air ripping into his skin and causing a melting noise.

"…" he staggers sideways, like an animal that has been shot, and falls to his knees. He is in instantaneous shock. He looks numbly down at himself, from his shoulder, down the side of his arm, half his chest, and his leg. The flesh is blackened and pretty much gone. His face doesn't feel right, either.

_SQUEEALCH! _Metal on metal noises; Laura has slithered down the front of the Nimrod, bringing most of its encasing with her. A moment later, there is a blue explosion; the Nimrod glows from within, then topples over, crackling, as Nori runs away, towards the final target.

But he's not going to be a part of it, he realizes, taking a few quiet breaths as he slowly sinks back onto his behind. They lied—there is no pain. He's completely numb.

Someone is beside him, trying to force him to stand. He tilts his eyes up.

"Hmmm?" he asks.

"…" he hears static. He vaguely recognizes the person as Laura, holding his still uninjured arm at the bicep, her face contorted as she yells at him. She seems furious. He wonders why. He wishes he could hear her.

Then he doesn't wish anything at all.

**…**

"Josh!" Laura is dragging what is left of a still-smoking Julian towards the healer, her face pale.

"You must heal him! You…"

She pauses. Josh looks up very slowly, from a pool of blood that is pouring from his chest. There is a large, jagged hole, through which she can see bone fragments, and torn muscles.

"Bring 'im….here…" Josh gasps slowly.

"Heal yourself, first," Laura orders.

"No…I only got…one more quick one…not enough for me…hurry…_hrruk_…"

His heartbeat is slowing. Josh is dying. Laura hesitates, then takes Julian's arm (which is slumped around her neck) and holds it out towards the other man, her expression strained.

"Thank you," she says. Josh tries to smile at her and fails; a faint golden glow travels up from his fingers to the point of contact. Julian shifts slightly against her and begins to breathe again, although labored. The flesh on his face has somewhat straightened; his left side is whole again; his right side is reddened and slightly disfigured, but the area is no longer black; the muscles are not even showing through his skin.

It is still evident that he has suffered major trauma. And his shoulder…Laura peers at the wound as it slowly begins to seal shut, the flesh underneath reconstructing, layer by layer.

Then it stops, while the wounds are still open.

Josh is dead. He was correct; he could not have healed his own wounds. Julian is only partially healed, but he is breathing again, and at least the damage is not as deep, as irrevocably mortal.

Laura looks at the battlefield. She needs to return; she has to find a safe place to hide him, until it is over. She does not want to leave him, when there is the odd chance that she might not be able to return.

Eventually, she chooses an old arcade, hides him in a cupboard behind the counter, and hurries back to skirmish.

**…**

The void parts, ebbs, like a tide, and Julian stares up at wood above him. For a moment he panics. He is in a coffin. They have buried him alive—he is underground—he raises his hands to pound on the lid, and he groans in pain.

His hand stings like it fell victim to very angry bees. In the dim light penetrating the dark through the crack in the door, he sees that the flesh covering it is shiny, and he shivers.

Now he can't stop shivering. He's very cold, and it hurts a lot to convulse with chills. His teeth chatter. He tries to curl away from the pain, as far as it will allow him to go; the skin of his shoulder and side is very tight and raw feeling.

He can't tell how much time passes between his waking up, and his waiting to be discovered. He slips in and out of unconsciousness, having strange hallucinations. He is so thirsty, he thinks he could drink a river, if he had one.

If only, if only…

Suddenly the cupboard opens. He raises his head lightly, and tries to peer over the mess that is his shoulder. If it is someone looking to finish the job, they will undoubtedly succeed. He'll just lie here and let them do it. He lowers his head again and curls into a ball.

"Stop. You are hurting the skin." Laura's voice. He closes his eyes in relief. He wants to ask her so many things…find out if it's over, if they've won. They obviously _have_, since she has returned for him.

What comes out is "…waddur…" like he hasn't learned to speak English yet.

"Yes. I need to extract you first."

Laura does so, and the process is incredibly painful. Once he is out, he is crying silently, blubbering, and feeling stupid, because he's a grown man and shouldn't wimp out like this in front of a _girl _who has endured much worse.

She holds a water canteen towards him, and he slowly takes it with his normal hand. Brings it to his mouth, and for a while, he thinks he may be in heaven.

"Moderation," Laura scolds, pulling the bottle away from him suddenly. "You will cause yourself to cramp if you overload your system."

He gazes longingly at the bottle, then realizes he has water running down his chin in a river. Reinforcing the notion that he has not yet mastered English, or any sort of verbal language. Embarrassed, he shakes his head and wipes the excess water off with his good hand.

"What h-happened?" he asks finally.

**…**

Laura gazes at him, and for a while does not speak.

Then she does, and he wishes she hadn't. "Many of our people are dead, including Nori, Sofia, and Josh. Fifteen out of our thirty-two mutants are deceased. The first two people that I have mentioned wished for me to pass information on to you."

Julian groans. "This can't be happening."

"It did," Laura says.

Silence. He looks away, his eyes hot again. _Sofia…_he didn't think it would hurt so much. A part of him must have still loved her, as messed up as she had become.

"Which message would you like first?" Laura asks patiently.

He blinks.

"Sof."

"She said—and I quote—'Do not feel bad. These thirteen years I have lived…for you. I died along with Laurie, and Dani, and David. It is clear to me now that this was a mistake…I should have died with them. I am sorry for what I have caused. Please do not mourn me.' She died soon after, having bled to death, despite my attempts to control the bleeding with a tourniquet."

Julian feels hollow inside. It is strange to hear Sofia's words come out of Laura's mouth. It is obvious that she does not quite comprehend what they mean. Sofia was always the passionate spirit, the emotional; Laura has always been the practical, tactical, realistic.

"And Nori?" he asks. He's surprised she had anything to say to him after a long history of hatred between the two.

"Nori said: 'Tell Keller that I'm sorry. I should've listened to you…you were on the right track, but I was so set on playing 'leader' and being afraid of losing everyone to you, that I shut you out. I did the same thing as when we were a bunch of dumb kids."

He is silent for a moment. "I can't believe they're gone. They _can't _be."

"Do you wish for me to lie to you?" Laura asks patiently.

He shakes his head. "No. I…thank you, Laura. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you."

She pauses. "You are welcome. I told you I would not let you die."

"I guess I better take you at your word, then." He bows his head. "What did Josh say?"

"Nothing. He passed on while correcting the damage you had sustained."

More silence. Julian feels nauseous, but it passes. "I feel like a douchebag. I was really mean to him, back at the school."

Laura doesn't say anything. No reassurance that he wasn't; nor that he was. She hadn't been there for most of it. The bullying she had seen Julian perform was mostly to herself.

"Did the bots retreat?" he asks.

"No, we simply destroyed them. We had better move, though. The human's next attack might be stronger. We cannot afford to fight another battle. We would be lost."

"Mhmm." Julian looks at his arm. The skin is red and streaked with black, and small areas of muscle are missing. It only vaguely looks like the limb that used to belong to him.

He starts to shiver again.

Laura inhales through her nose. "Your wounds are becoming infected. We need to cleanse them, and then make our way to safety."

"Whatever," Julian says, almost under his breath. "You're the boss."

"No," she says. "You are. Nori also told me to tell you that."

He wants to argue, but he is beginning to feel dizzy. His stomach is full of water, and has sucked the circulation away from his wounds—circulation that is vital to healing them. If they are going to be healed.

"Laura…that's…I need to lie down."

"Later. Right now, we need to—"

_KER-PLUNK, _as he keels over, cutting Laura off in mid-sentence.

**…**

"Damn, Laura," Logan says, seeing his clone struggle back to the small band of survivors, the boy slumped unconsciously over her shoulder like a corpse.

She turns slightly and gives her once-mentor a questioning look. He is covered in soot, blood, and slowly-healing cuts. His teeth look white in his face, because he is smiling slightly, grinning. "Never seen a woman carry off the man before. Usually the other way 'round."

"He is injured," Laura says, missing the point. "His wounds are becoming infected. I require rubbing alcohol, forceps, and—"

"Yeah, we 'require' a lot of stuff, darlin'," Logan says. "Don't get it often."

Laura turns away, her expression cold. She does not appreciate his patronizing manner; an attitude he has had towards her ever since her service with X-force.

"Cessily," she calls, spotting the girl, wrapping a bandage around a young, skinny boy's arm with a soft expression. "I need your help."

"With what, Laura? _Oh no—_" Cessily has just spotted one of her best friends hanging over the girl's shoulder, looking dead.

"OH MY GOD! Is he—"

"No. Not yet." Laura pauses. "Do you have any matches?"

"Uh, I think so," Cessily says. "Check in my bag. What are you going to do?"

"I may need to operate, later," she says. "His wounds are becoming infected. If the condition persists, I will need to remove the damaged tissue."

"Amputation?" Cessily asks.

"Not if it can be avoided," Laura says. "We will need to find a safe area where he can remain undisturbed during these crucial next hours. I will know if his condition is worsening within seventy two hours."

**…**

"We should move out," Logan grunts.

"If we do that, we will no longer be near the area that the child was—"

"Hank, since when do we put our future in the hands of a _baby? _Listen to yerself. I'm sick o' this…I might take off up north, if we don't leave."

"No."

The men both turn; Laura is now present, her face dark.

"Finished playing nurse?" Logan asks.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she addresses Dr. McCoy.

"We are leaving. Logan has not informed you that—"

"LAURA, DON'T—" Logan grounds out, his hand snaking out to grab her wrist.

"—the child is _dead,_" she finishes. "All this death…all this destruction…is meaningless. We should focus on rebuilding, not retrieving."

"…" Hank is stunned speechless.

"God _damn _it, clone, shut up! Just stop! You have no idea what yer doin'!"

"Yes, I do." Laura glowers at him. "You are lying, and I am telling the truth. You are willing to keep lying—although it will lead to injuries, death, and the inevitable destruction of our genotype." She pauses. "We have disagreed over this for a long time, Weapon X. I will tolerate it no longer. I have seen the cost of lies. I have lost three friends today, and almost lost—" she pauses.

"Whatever. You know what…fuck you people. Screw you. I tried…but Charlie's dream went stale a long time ago." Logan waves his hand, walks away.

"The Messiah child…is dead?" Hank asks, as if he has not been present for the last few moments.

"Yes." Laura watches Logan go. "I will need your help, Dr. McCoy. Julian's life is still at risk…and it is vitally important that he does not die." She pauses. "To our survival," she adds.

"Of course," Dr. McCoy agrees, although he doesn't see what Laura is getting at.


	15. Chapter 15

**15. Chapter 15-  
**

* * *

Three days later, Julian opens his eyes slowly. One eyelid feels slightly tight; oh right, the burns. He feels like a piece of cooked meat. Like the turkey his mom used to overcook…like…

He's lying on a sofa. Granted, a dilapidated sofa, with holes torn in it, and lumpy cushions, but a _sofa. _It feels damn good, supportive.

Turning his head slightly, he can see he is in an old office building, and the others are not far away. What is left of them. He is glad to see Cessily and Santo in a corner, bickering about something.

And Laura is hunched over a small fire, a few feet away from him. Something smells good—food? He wants to sit up, but he can sense that the tiniest movement on his part will be the end of him.

"Laura?" he calls weakly instead.

She turns her head. "You are awake," she says. She turns, and he can see she is holding a tin of spaghetti and meatballs.

His stomach growls automatically.

"It will be ready soon. A few minutes."

Julian watches the can with a far more predatory look than any she has ever given him. She smiles slightly and places the can in the fire with the tongs, where it will simmer until it's deliciously hot.

He realizes, with a start, that he could just about eat the label, Chef Boyardee and all. How long has he been without food?

"How are you feeling?" Laura asks.

"Like yesterday's shit," he mumbles through dry lips.

She reaches out and touches his forehead, on the healthy side of his face. Her fingers feel cool and comforting, even though he has seen them do horrible things. He closes his eyes again, in enjoyment.

"You are still feverish," Laura says.

He doesn't respond. Her fingers run up, through his thick hair, in a comforting gesture that he enjoys even more, and they touch…his scalp?

His eyes snap open, and he claps his good hand to his head.

"Do not—" Laura says, but he's already feeling his hair, panicking. He's missing a good chunk on the burnt side.

Suddenly, it all clicks together. She's never going to be attracted to him again, considering how he must look. From what he's seen of his arm, he's sure his face isn't much better off. He can just barely open the burnt eyelid, because it's drooping down his face. Like a landslide.

"Julian, stop. You will agitate your wounds."

"Where the fuck is my hair?"

"It will grow back." She encircles his wrist firmly with her fingers and forces it back down against the sofa. "You must lie still. The less you agitate the wounds, the faster they will heal."

"I can't lie here like a freakin' invalid! I need to be on the go, with you guys!"

"We will carry you."

"Fuck that!"

"Julian, if you agitate the wounds, they will become infected. I may have to amputate a limb if this occurs." She pauses. "It almost did already. I was nearly forced to sever your hand."

Julian's eyes slip down to the mess that is his hand. He hasn't dared to move it.

Will he ever be able to?

"You have been healing faster than expected so far," Laura says. "I suspect that Elixir's death during healing caused some unexpected long term effects."

Julian is silent.

**…**

Laura looks up at the night sky, just visible through the heavy clouds.

She wonders why, why was humanity so stupid, why did they almost completely eliminate the mutant strain? The ratio of mutant caused deaths to rescue by mutants had been far out of proportion-almost 1 to 1,000. Cancer and heart attacks killed more people than mutants ever did. Yet this 1 to 1000 ratio was not low enough for humans, and so they had raped their earth, leaving very little of it alive in an attempt to exterminate the mutants.

Laura's eyes are fixed on a certain star, even as she hears footsteps approach the door. It opens silently, and then _he_ is there, her prior mentor. The man who had turned his back on her when she was frightened and alone, her heart aching over those she had lost.

Yes, Laura knows what heart ache was. She is also aware, after thirteen years, that people think she is heartless. She does not bother to correct them; they are of no importance to her. What matters is the mission—her mother had told her so, once, told her that nothing mattered but the mission.

That completing the mission would make the heart ache go away.

Laura knows now that it doesn't work that way. She is an intelligent woman—she's long figured out that her mother had imparted this information to keep her safe, later to encourage her towards freedom. She hadn't meant completion of the mission would literally cure the heartache, which was what the child-Laura had believed.

Oh, Laura knows this now. But the mission is something to _do,_something to live for in a world that is cruel and senseless, gray and deadened.

In the world that she cannot leave, due to her healing factor.

"Kid," Logan acknowledges, blowing out a stream of smoke. She lowers her face slightly, and her almond-shaped eyes warily fall on the older man.

She remains silent.

"How's things?" Logan asks, casually.

Before, Laura would have asked him to specify what things he was talking about. She knows now, though, that he is asking in a situational sense; he wants to know if the mission is succeeding, and if she is physically and mentally well.

"I am alright," she says stiffly.

Logan looks at her now. "No you're not."

She raises her eyebrows, but says nothing. Waits.

"You're all broken up over the Keller kid again," Logan says, with a knowing look. Is he smiling slightly? "I can tell. You always light up like a neon sign when he's around, you know."

"I am aware," Laura says, her tone still stiff. She does not care to divulge information to Logan, especially after recent events.

He had been angry with her for telling Julian and the others about the Messiah's demise.

Logan falls silent, and for a while he fingers his cigarette. He is formulating words, she can tell.

Laura's hand forms a fist. "Just say whatever you have come here to say," she says. "I do not wish to waste time on your idleness."

"Jeez, alright," Logan says, holding up a hand. "Wanted to make sure yer okay, seein' as how this same Keller took a beatin' and all."

Laura watches him, suspicious.

"Why would you care about me?"

Logan sighs.

"Look…I'm sorry, kid. I…I was wrong."

Laura watches him.

"I said somethin' to you, a long time ago, that I'm guessin' you didn't forget," Logan says, tapping his cigarette. "It was wrong a' me. I figured it out, after a while. Not like I didn't have thirteen years a' thinkin' you were dead to do some figurin' in. And regrettin'."

Logan's expression is…sheepish?

"Can you forgive me?" he asks.

Laura stares now, seeing nothing else. Why would Logan care what she thinks, what she feels? She's not who he dies for.

He told her that, for certain.

"Why?" she asks.

"I said, it was wrong," Logan says. "Shouldn'ta put ideas like that in your head. I was scared for ya…I thought if you went down the road you were goin', you'd never come back. You'd be just what the facility made you."

"I _am_ what the facility made me," Laura says, and there is a hint of anger in her voice. Frustration that he does not understand a simple concept.

"No, Laura. You're a lot more than that," Logan says, seriously. "You proved me wrong. You did everything Cyclops asked—_ordered _you to do—and you came out kickin'. You protected your friends, kept em alive, did what they couldn't do—helped them learn how to do what they couldn't. And now…"

Laura waits.

"To be honest, I think yer a hell of a woman," Logan says. "And Keller's lucky you'll look twice at him. I'm disappointed he ain't wised up. Maybe now that Mantega—"

"I do not need a dead woman's leavings," Laura says sharply.

"Hey now—I wasn't sayin'—" Logan protests. He wonders at how Laura has evolved enough to perceive that he might have meant to say that.

Laura sighs, looks down. "I am…irritable. I did not mean to accuse you." She pauses. "Julian has already made his choice of…allegiance."

Logan frowns. "If it helps any—I know what it's like, to want someone who's got someone else. I lo—"

"He chose me," Laura says, her words a puff of frost on the cool air.

Logan blinks, and the cigarette slips out of his fingers. He considers; what does he think of this development?

"Do you approve?" Laura asks him, apparently following his line of thought.

"You got my blessing, kid…but he hurts you an—"

"I will deal with it myself, as I have learned to do," Laura interrupts, her eyebrow raised. "Do not forget."

Logan nods. "So we're good?"

"I do not know what that means," Laura says. "But I do not wish harm to you."

"Never thought ya did," Logan says.

Laura heads for the door, leaving Logan to stand in the frosty air, looking at the stars now. She pauses, her hand on the long handle, then without looking at him she says: "I am sorry that Jean Grey did not choose you."

She goes inside, and Logan contemplates her words, marveling at how much she has learned, developed; then he smiles to himself and follows her in.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16-  
**

* * *

"We are low on supplies," Laura reports, as was her routine for thirteen years before all of the recent events took place. Except that now she means supplies for fifteen mouths, instead of just five.

Julian isn't sure if this is a good or bad thing.

He sighs, rubs the good half of his face. It's been two weeks since he woke up, half-baked, and he's since recovered enough strength to sit up, carefully. Even walk a little. And to discuss plans with Laura regarding the group's future,

She has hung on to the notion that he is to lead it, showing no desire for the position herself.

"It's going to be rough, getting that much in one go," he says. "Especially with me out of commission, and half our regular snatching troops gone."

Laura is unwavering. "I will train the others. There are two that show promise."

"Promise sounds great in theory, but in practice it's just a promise for death."

"I will train them," Laura restates. "They are all we have."

Julian doesn't say what he had been planning to say, because Laura is right. They are all they have, and they must learn how to fend for themselves—because he and she might not always be here.

"Do it," he says, looking down at his hands: one familiar, healthy albeit covered in bruises and callouses; and the other melted, the skin rippled and bubbled. A stranger attached to his arm.

He was that close already. And, based on what is left of him, he wishes he had been taken completely.

He feels like a fish that has been caught, partially fileted, and set back in the water, to twist in agony and be shunned.

Julian has always looked good, attractive. God knows he made fun of enough people that weren't, when he was younger. He never thought he'd _be_ one. And now, when he's unsure of where he stands, when he needs his good looks the most. Because—deep down he knows—his personality might not be enough to cut it. He's insufficient, insecure.

And he feels insecure now, sitting on the couch, half dead, across from one of the most physically attractive females he has ever known—who has wanted him for thirteen years based on his _appearance, _because god knows it wasn't his same personality keeping her interested.

"Your scent has changed," Laura says, her voice low.

Julian pauses. "Not surprised, really. I'm basically a medium rare steak now."

"No," Laura says. She reaches out, her fingers touch his shoulder and he can't help twitching slightly—twitching away.

"You smell of fear," Laura says, her fingers poised in the air his shoulder occupied a moment ago.

"It's nothing," Julian says. He meets her eyes and forces a small smile, and his face hurts, as he twists the newly reformed corner of his mouth against its shape—a slightly downturned crescent. "I'm gonna—gonna get a bit more rest. I'm not likely to get a chance like this anytime soon."

"Okay," Laura says. She scoots towards him and makes a motion to come closer; he pulls back.

"…?" she looks at him in question. Is that hurt in her expression? Julian watches her, despite his fear of seeing revulsion.

"I—" he pauses. "I'm still sore." He indicates his chest.

Laura frowns slightly, then gets to her feet, and leaves without further comment. He wonders if he did the right thing, then admonishes himself. He has spared her having to touch the disgusting mess that is himself at the moment, and whatever hurt feelings she has, she will just have to cope with them.

**…**

The next morning:

"We should get a move on. We're sitting ducks as is," Logan grunts.

They are sitting around a long table, in an abandoned office building, each in a dilapidated ergonomic chair. Hank McCoy is at one end, Logan at the other; seated along the table are Cessily, Santo, Blindfold, Laura, and Julian, leaning the good side of his face on his good hand.

Under the table, Laura has recently tried to hold it; he's had to remove it from her reach. Her hand now rests on his thigh instead, the fingers curled. Is she hurt?

He doesn't want to think about it right now.

They've got bigger problems. The Sentinels and Nimrods that attacked them…are just the beginning, as Logan has said. Some careful scouting detail has provided them with the knowledge that the Commander boasts a force of thousands of Sentinels—or, rather, the ability to make them, with a factory called the Master Mold.

And he has just turned it on.

Master Mold is associated with the Genosha attack—about sixteen years ago now—which had ended in the death of millions of mutants. It is an enormous, mobile Sentinel robot slash factory machine with a sentient consciousness; it creates replicas of itself programmed with a very basic function: terminate anything with an X gene.

"We're as good as dead," Cessily moans.

"Don't say that, Cess," Julian says, irritated.

His oldest friend—well, oldest _surviving _friend, that doesn't consider him a threat to her existence—cringes, visibly, as she looks at him. She can't hide the blended expression of horror and pity that seizes her face.

"Yeah—what Logan said," Julian says, closing his eyes. "We need to get as far away from here as possible…as fast as possible. Carry the injured, dump belongings if we have to."

"The messiah—" Cessily begins.

"Fuck the baby," Julian says, noting that—a long time ago—he would have joined Santo in a juvenile snort over what he has just said…but his humor is gone, for now. This is life-or-death, not day-to-day.

There are several alarmed pairs of eyes trained on him. He looks up.

"Look…if we die, there's not going to be _anyone _to get the baby anyway. We can worry about it once we're safe. But for now…we live in the moment."

Relaxing, on Wolverine's part. Dr. McCoy looks down. He knows, Julian is aware—was informed of this by Laura, who reports dutifully to him, wanting _him_ in charge, for some reason.

He doesn't think it's just their connection; Laura actually believes Julian will lead them to safety, for some reason. Almost religiously so, considering the fact that he's shown her nothing to worthy of this belief.

"I believe we should head south," Laura says. Julian thinks of the remains of Florida. They could edge towards the coast. The closer to the Antarctic, the better; and he agrees with this strategy. They will be simultaneously moving away from the enemy—and the area more heavily saturated with the effects of the war—and towards an area with ocean and the possibility of fruit. Food sources. Julian thinks of fresh fruit—an orange—and his mouth waters unwillingly. It has been ten years since he last had an orange, but for some reason the taste has remained in his memory.

Cessily looks at him pleadingly, but he ignores her.

"We leave tomorrow morning," Julian says firmly. "If anyone's not with the schedule…they can stay. But right now, we need to stick together. We're numbered and wearing target signs on our backs—and three guesses as to where anyone caught will be going. I'll give you a hint: it's not heaven."

"I'll go," Logan grunts.

"As will I," Dr. McCoy says slowly. He looks weary, worried; but Julian suspects that Logan has had words with him, dared him to quit life and kill them all (for with Josh gone, Hank's their last word in medicine, other than Laura's field knowledge).

Laura doesn't say a word, but the table knows she is already going. Her thumb on his leg moves move slightly—sweeps down slowly, sweeps back, and repeats. Is she—she's _stroking _him. Julian wasn't aware she knew what that was. He tries not to look surprised.

"I'm with you," Cessily says grimly.

"Dude—giant mistake—I'm out," Santo rumbles at the end of the table. Julian's eyes shift towards him, not with surprise, but sadness. He knew beforehand that Santo wouldn't go, and it twists him up inside, chokes him, to know that he won't see his friend again. "I won't be alone," Santo adds.

Julian knows. He wonders who out of the fifteen survivors will come with him, other than those already on his side.

**…**

That night:

He is restless, staring at the dark, hole-ridden plaster ceiling. He wonders, over and over, if he is doing the right thing. Leave Santo behind? Leave some of his people? Maybe it would be better to let the enemy execute them all—they're a sorry lot, especially himself.

His good arm behind his head, he finally drifts off into an uneasy sleep, and begins dreaming—about the metal hand, twisting, forming into Laura's hand. About her hand reaching out to him as he is struck by the antimatter ray, watching himself melt, about their fingers missing.

There is too much space between them.

Suddenly he is awake, sensing motion. He sits up slightly, ignoring the smart rush of stinging pain; there is a darker-than-dark spot in the air before him.

_There._ Two disks flashing in the dim lighting—like cat eyes.

"Here," Laura murmurs, her hand, cupped, moving towards him. He looks down, and sees her palm illuminated by the moonlight shining softly through the window. There is a plastic container on it.

Julian squints at it—reaches out with his good hand, picks it up. Morphine.

She has brought him a bottle of morphine.

Julian stops, puts the bottle back. He knows just how hard it would have been for her to obtain this. It's like gold—or a handful of diamonds. Better. She offers him a bottle of water, from her other hand, which he takes, and holds, watching her open the pill bottle and shake a few tablets out onto her hand. Her fingers curl around the round orange tablets, and then approach his mouth.

"Laura—I didn't mean—" he whispers, after he's swallowed the medication (which will be amazing in a few minutes, to not be in agony for a while). He knows she thought he meant what he said, the other night. That he was in too much pain.

She watches him, her full lips parting. To speak. "Will you hold me now?" she asks, her voice suddenly full of—full of what?

He pushes himself up on an elbow, reaches out and touches her cheek, with his clumsy, deformed hand. She closes her eyes, leans into his fingers, exhales softly, genuinely, like a breath she wasn't aware of holding. He is reminded of his vague picture of a plant dying all its life for someone to nurture it.

"Yeah," he whispers, aware that his eyes are stinging slightly. He suddenly knows—a clear, doubtless knowledge—that Laura doesn't even see the wounds that cover so much of his body, that he was being stupid, like he always is, for some reason.

Laura creeps forward, gingerly nestles into his side, his good side, and her glowing eyes drift closed in her pale face. He uses his good hand to brush hair out of the way, then runs it down her hair.

"Julian?" she asks. He pauses.

"Yeah?"

"Why were you afraid of me?"

He sighs softly. "I thought…well, I'm pretty beat up now."

"I have seen injuries before," Laura murmurs.

"I know." He considers. "I…thought you might not want me anymore. That way."

Laura is silent for a while. He thinks she must not have understood what he meant. Just as he is drifting off to sleep, on the wings of morphine, she answers, under her breath.

"I will always want you."

"You…don't know that," he mumbles.

"I do," Laura says.

He wants to elaborate, but he's too tired, and sleep takes him away.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry, had crap. To do. Here's an update :o)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

* * *

"We should make our way to the Savage Lands," Laura says, her eyes bright and clear in their dull surroundings. This sentence is in answer to Julian's question about what they should Do Next, where, exactly, in the South that their little group is heading.

Now that there is no messiah to find.

"We don't have transport," Julian argues, blowing out a stream of smoke with his words. He's leaning against a brick wall in the alleyway, one leg propped up behind him. Laura is sitting on a steel box housing some sort of generator, her hair drifting in the breeze. "And just now there is no way I can carry eight people over the Atlantic ocean."

"I would not suggest that," Laura says. "In addition to your inability, there is the probability of being detected and shot down, over the water. I would recommend obtaining some sort of water craft."

"The harbor?" Julian takes a last drag off his shortened cigarette, then drops it to the ground, grinds it under his heel, and pats his pockets to find the carton.

"You are smoking too much. Yes, the harbor." Laura watches him critically.

He finds the carton. "Not enough, in my opinion. Damn it!" The carton's empty.

Laura watches him for a moment, then her hand reaches into her top again and once more withdraws a small, shrink wrapped package covered in Surgeon General warnings about how his lungs will look after consuming the product inside (and the pictures remind him of how his _outsides _look now).

He stares at her.

"Is something wrong?" Laura asks as she gets off the box to hand him the package, their fingertips brushing.

"Nothing," he says, his attention suddenly focused on her. He's started to form the opinion that Laura dispenses a lot of good stuff to him—pills, smokes, sex—and even booze, on occasion. Oh, and unfailing loyalty.

He wishes he could touch her now, show her how much he appreciates this. Then he suddenly realizes he _can_, and the carton goes in his jacket pocket, unopened. His hands are going to be busy for the next while, as he suddenly pushes Laura back towards the steel box, noting it's just the right height.

Her questioning look disappears after a bit of non-verbal explanation. She's always understood body language better, he thinks appreciatively.

**…**

"Listen up, people," Julian says, in a firm voice.

The air is silent. Everyone is staring at the man who has taken charge. Somehow, the horrific mutilation he has suffered seems to add to his stature. People realize that he's made sacrifices, that he took pain and stood up and knew how to survive, and that maybe—just maybe—if they follow him, they can survive, too.

"We're heading to the harbor, _now_." Julian's arms are folded. "Finding the baby would be awesome, but we're in no shape to wait for a miracle to happen. It's pretty evident that we're not in God's plan anymore."

No one argues. This has been rumored already.

"The people who are coming with us…to the left," Julian says. "The rest stay where you are. If you change your mind about coming, you can try to find us." He pauses. "But I wouldn't count on your chances alone."

People start to move, Laura first. Cessily next. Dr. McCoy, and Logan move to the left. Four others, including the boy with three ears.

Santo stays in the crowd, along with six others, their expressions grim.

"That all?"

Silence.

"Alright." Julian turns away. "Let's go, people."

**…**

Laura puts her hand on Julian's good shoulder, about an hour later, as they pick their way through the rubble of New York city, on their way to the Harbor.

The muscles under her fingers are tense, and his expression is hard.

"This sucks," he says flatly. "It doesn't feel right, leaving Santo like that."

"He made the choice, not you," Laura reminds him. "You cannot change someone's mind. Or their heart."

"I should have told him the truth. About you-know-what."

"No." Laura shakes her head. "Santo would give up And he would tell the others…all at once. It would cause panic…a riot." She pauses. "They can only be told the truth once they are in a better situation."

Julian grimaces. "Why did you tell me, then?"

"We need you to lead." Laura looks down. "I am not…I cannot lead people. As much as I know, I do not know enough about social graces. No, that is not right. I do know—but often, I do not understand, or sympathize."

"You seem to have a pretty good grasp on things." He reaches out and takes her hand. "We're a team, Laura. And if something happens to me…I want you to take charge. Because no matter what happens, you're going to get them there alive."

Laura gives him a serious look. "I will not let you die."

"I believe you," Julian says, and he grins now, slightly.

**…**

They are halfway to the harbor when the next strike hits.

"Oh my god," Cessily whispers, as they ascend a hill—and at the top, are presented with a nightmarish vision that stretches as far as the eye can see.

If they thought they had had opponents at the last fight—_that_ had been nothing in comparison to what waits for them now. Row, upon row, upon row…upon row…of Sentinels. Laura turns her head from side to side, and roughly estimates that there are couple _thousand_robots.

"Well…_fuck_," Julian says finally. "Think we can sneak through?"

"Probably not," Laura says, studying the scene. "I'd presume that they have well defended the harbor. They must have anticipated our plans."

The group stands in silence.

"There goes that," Logan says. "Flamin' Mastermold."

"We should leave, before we are detected," Laura says.

Just then, the Sentinels below them seem to come to life, their eyes lighting up.

"…" Julian says, as well more than a thousand robotic voices say:

**[TARGET ACQUIRED: MUTANTS. DESIGNATION: WANTED 1 ABX. RECCOMENDATION: ELIMINATION. PROCEED IN 10, 9, 8…] **

"Oh, _Christ,_" Logan says. "_**EVERYONE! **__**RUN **__**LIKE **__**HELL!**_"

The next few minutes are a blur, as Julian and Laura—along with the rest of the survivors—are staggered, running as fast as their legs will take them around and through the rubble, while the robots behind them simply fly, taking shots at them with a completely unfair advantage.

"_**LAURA!**__**" **_Julian yells, whipping around suddenly as she shrieks. He sees an enormous, metal dog—about the size of an elephant—shaking her between its teeth, like a piece of meat that it has just ripped out of an animal.

_**VRRRMM!**_Julian forces its jaws open and catches the girl in his arms. He'd been so terrified, he'd forgotten about _his_ advantages. Concealment doesn't seem to matter anymore.

**…**

"_**NO!**__**" **_Laura screams uncharacteristically, as they tumble towards the ground, Julian smoking from the shockwave of energy that has just impacted them. She closes her eyes, and at that moment she gives up, knowing it is all over, for good. Her friends will die…so might she…and it will all have been for nothing.

They hit the ground and separate on impact, Laura rolling several feet away, her bones realigning with little _click__click__click_noises: her body knitting itself back together. She's not concerned at all with her own injuries, though.

"Julian—" she crawls over to his side. The silver-skinned Predator X beast is approaching; she hears it lunging around rubble, slobbering and whining as it anticipates tearing into their flesh. "Julian…shield us…please…" her voice is strained as she sees that his eyes are closed, and there is blood trickling down from his mouth. A rattling in his breath tells her he has damaged his lungs severely on impact. She reaches out, touches his face, her fingers shaking and tears streaming down her face.

"Please don't leave…" she says again the words she'd spoken over thirteen years ago, to her mother, as she'd lain on her chest and listened as her heartbeat simply faded away. "Please don't leave me. Please."

_**"**__**HRRRGNN!**__**" **_The beast skids into view, its muzzle contorted with an ugly snarl. Laura looks down for a moment. If she is going to be alone—why should she _bother_ anymore? Maybe the beast could bring her some peace.

She hears the creature charging towards them; her eyes snap open of their own accord. As it hurls itself into the air, intent on devouring what's left of her companion, she whips her foot out from under herself and meets its chest with her foot claw.

"_**AAAIIIGNNNN!**_" the beast whimpers sharply as a trail of blood scores down its belly, releasing a shower of organs. It never reaches its target; it lands too far, and never gets up.

"_Animal,_" Laura says, licking the blood off her lips and scowling at her fallen adversary. Then she hears the roar of the Sentinel engines closing in; this is bad.

Now she has a choice to make: is she going to live…or die?

"L-laura…" comes a ragged voice, near the ground. Julian's eyes are open slightly; he looks like he's in pain. She crawls closer to him and touches his shoulder. "Where does it hurt?"

Julian grins, very slightly. "Everywhere," he says in a tiny voice.

She notes that his breathing is not rattling anymore, and a thought hits her. Did Elixir transfer some kind of permanent healing factor to Julian?

"Can you get up?" she asks.

"No."

"Think about healing your wounds," she says. "Concentrate. Maybe hold your hand on your torso."

"I can't…heal, Laura."

"Do it."

The roars are getting closer.

There is a moment's pause. "See, I can't—" a flash of green light illuminates the area, with a soft _Pafft_noise. "…"

"Get up," Laura orders him, as he stares at his midsection, which no longer hurts.

"We need to run—_now_. You can still die if we do not escape."

**…**

"Christ," Julian says, pacing the ground. "Fucking _Christ._"

They have pulled over in a small, surviving stand of woods at the New York-Vermont border. After gaining enough distance from the Sentinels, Laura had ordered him to land, and they had promptly found a vehicle—thus making them much harder to track, as using their powers causes flares of activity on the Sentinel radar systems….and if they do not use their powers…

"What do we do about the others?"

Laura is still seated on the motorcycle, still covered in blood, dirt, sweat and dried tears. It is like she has a second skin, made of the excretions of war.

"I don't know."

"We can't abandon them. People like Wolverine, Cess—they won't _die._They'll be put into a god-damn internment camp, and we can't let that happen."

"I don't know what to do." Laura hangs her head. Her grimy hair falls on the bike's handlebars like a curtain. She has leaves and twigs stuck amongst the tangles. "I don't know what to do!" Her voice is breaking, and her claws pop out.

Julian sighs, rubs his face and scalp—which has been itching since _whatever_he'd done had happened—then moves back to the bike, rubs her shoulder. "Laura…calm down. We've come this far."

"Kimura was right!" Laura shouts, beyond comfort. "Everyone I love will die, and there's nothing I can do! _**THERE**__**'**__**S**__** NOTHING!**_"

The last words echo through the forest, with raw power. Julian doesn't know what to do for her, being a little in shock himself.

"Hey," he says finally, leaning over her shoulders. "Get off. You need to sit down for a moment."

"N-n-no," Laura shakes her head viciously. "No time—have to—"

"We won't get away faster if we crash," he says. "Calm down. We just need to think. We'll figure something out…we always do." He pauses. "And I'm not dead, yet. You're wrong in saying that, unless you don't count me."

Laura looks up at him with pleading eyes, and he very desperately wants to give her what she needs: a better world. But it's beyond his power to do so; instead he gives her a hug and rocks her back and forth, making soft, crooning sounds.

_**BLINK!**_

The pair's heads snap up at the sound, something they haven't heard for a very long time, since Selene had attacked the X-men. It's unmistakable, though.

"_Blink?_" Julian asks, in astonishment. The girl is also as memorable as her sound effect, with her bright pink skin, hair, and pointed ears. She has white eyes, with a purple stripe through the left-hand side.

Laura opens her mouth. Before them is a mutant both had assumed was dead…but alive had the one power that could save them both—all of them, actually. She could teleport anywhere in the world, even into space—instantaneously.

"I was told to come get you, and your people, by our leader." Blink says, watching the grubby pair. "She says you're supposed to be in charge. By the looks of you…I have my doubts…but Aldine has yet to be wrong about anything."

"Aldine?" Julian asks. "_Ruth_ Aldine? As in _Blindfold?__" _

"You know her?" Blink asks.

"We need to hurry," Laura says, her voice still cracking. "Our people are in danger right now."


	18. Chapter 18

******A/N: **Dear Liu: Fuck you. Love, onelildustbunni. PS: Happy holidays everyone!  
PS: Shorter chapter, but with a big revelation about someone. Next one I'll make longer ;-)

* * *

**Chapter 18-**

* * *

_**BLINK!**_

"Ruth's telling me that we have all of the survivors already," Blink says, moving forward from the diamond shaped portal that is already disappearing.

"Blindfold's a telepath?" Julian asks.

"Pretty damn good one," Blink says. She looks at the group of people gathered in the cave. Three of the eight had been lost; Logan, Dr. McCoy, and Cessily had survived, along with Laura and Julian.

There is a moment of silence, while they contemplate what has just happened. _Three _of the last fifteen mutants on earth have died, Julian thinks, then remembers what Blink had said earlier, about Ruth's group.

"Let's—oh, wait, Ruth has another job for me. Be right back." The girl disappears as suddenly as she had first appeared.

"This is certainly an unexpected turn of events," Dr. McCoy murmurs.

"I wish they would have come and gotten us sooner," Julian says. "They had to wait until we were half dead to decide they need us? It's not like we're a plentiful species anymore…"

"I've learned not to question telepaths, or precogs, kid," Logan says grimly. "Over the years, it's become apparent to me that they're marching to their own band. Most of it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."

"I have questions when people die needlessly." Julian's eyes are begin to glow.

"There must have been reasons we aren't aware of," Cessily says carefully. Over the years, she's learned that the world isn't as simple as it once seemed. Originally, she might have agreed with Julian; all the death has upset her greatly.

"Perhaps she considered some of us not worthy," Laura says.

"_What?_" Julian jerks his head around to look at her, disbelief on his face; she regrets having spoken. The situation is the same as when—years ago—she had told Logan that saving Wolfsbane was "not part of the mission"; and the expression now on her partner's face is the same.

However, she knows how to handle these situations better now.

"I did not say that I agree," Laura says. "I suggested a possible reason, to answer your question."

"Laura's right, kid." Logan's words surprise her. "Survival's pretty black and white. Either you make it—or you don't. Maybe that's what had to be done…maybe only those that made it get to go on."

Hesitantly, Laura reaches up and puts her hand on the small of Julian's back, feeling how tense he's grown. "I'm sorry," she murmurs.

"Yeah." Julian scratches at the injured part of his scalp, which is slightly red. This draws her attention; she peers closer at his injury. The burn—while still apparent—has lessened in severity, and there is hair growing back on his scalp, which is now regular again.

"Dr. McCoy, please examine Julian," she says.

"What?" Julian asks, sounding alarmed.

"Oh yeah! Your face!" Cessily says suddenly. "I _knew_ there was something different about you!"

"_What?_" Julian demands.

"Your burns have healed significantly," Dr. McCoy murmurs, peering at the injuries. "Your scalp is normal again. Mr. Keller, I do believe you have retained some sort of healing factor—"

"Elixir," Laura interrupts.

"Yes," Dr. McCoy says suddenly. "Yes, I believe you are right, Laura! His death while healing Julian would have unexpected effects."

"What—" Julian looks confused.

"Foley's powers were very interesting. His 'healing' was essentially his sending instructions to cells and stimulating their original DNA; in other words, his touch was much like a virus. He would transmit the instructions, in the form of his own DNA to the nucleus of the cell and take it over with a command to _rebuild._" Dr. McCoy looks fascinated. "Perhaps, when he died, you retained some of his genetic information."

Everyone except Laura looks confused.

"Say _what?_" Logan asks.

"Children, this is high school Biology," Dr. McCoy says, looking frustrated. "I taught you these concepts myself. You even wrote _exams_on the subject."

"That was a long time ago," Julian says. "But I think I get what you're saying. You think I've got Elixir's powers now?"

"In a sense." Dr. McCoy holds out his arm, and moves aside some of the fur with one paw, to reveal a wound; a jagged cut. "Here…heal this."

Julian reaches out and touches near the area doubtfully, tries to think of healing it, but nothing happens.

"I don't think I—" _Pafft. _The others step back as the cave is illuminated by soft green light; moments afterward, Dr. McCoy examines the wound. It is now almost gone, except for a faintly pink scar.

"Well, this would support the theory," he murmurs finally.

"That's _**AWESOME!**_" Julian blurts. "Anyone else hurt?"

"Sorry to disappoint ya, kid," Logan says.

"Damn," Julian says.

"You could practice on yourself," Cessily points out. "Maybe you can make it like nothing ever happened."

"When I have a microscope again, I will demand tissue samples, Mr. Keller," Dr. McCoy says. "I am truly fascinated by this theory."

**…**

They are settling down for the night when they are suddenly surprised.

_**BLINK!**_

"_**SANTO!**_" Cessily suddenly exclaims.

She runs towards her friend-who has just appeared in the center of the cave, along with his six companions, and Blink—and throws her arms around him in a violent hug. "I thought you were dead too!"

"Nah," Santo rumbles. "Can't kill _me_, remember?" He pauses. "You shoulda _SEEN _the fuckin' mass of—"

"Yeah, we did," Julian says. "Three of our group didn't make it. If it weren't for Blink here…" he trails off.

"Gee, shucks," Blink says. "Well, that's all of you, right?"

"Yes," Laura says. "The others are—"

"Don't say it, Laura," Julian mumbles.

"Okay. Well, let's head out then."

_**BLINK!**_


End file.
